


Stories from Exile: Ficlets, One Shots, and Other Musings from Exile//Vilify

by silverjirachi



Category: Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (Video Game), The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Some Crack, Some Serious, and any depicted deaths are cartoon deaths, any depicted violence is cartoon violence, anyways I hope you enjoy, but sooga has no idea kohga likes him, but yknow we'll see how it goes, everything is PG to PG 13 with some mild suggestive humor, idk what to tag it as yet we'll find out as we go, most of this is just for fun and stuff that doesnt fit in my main fic, so everyone is stupid and nobody stays dead, the canonicity tone and cohesion of which will vary greatly, this isn't all shipping it's gonna be just some fun Extra Scenes, yiga husbands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 46,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverjirachi/pseuds/silverjirachi
Summary: This is just a random collection of extra scenes that I have in my brain because I am plagued by constant visions.Follow Astor and The Gang™ as they do shenanigans in the Yiga Clan, the Castle, and other random places in Hyrule!NEW CHAPTERS: 21-27Kohga and Sooga continue being really platonic, the royal family beach episode, kohga takes the "voe and you" class in gerudo town, blasphemous children blasphemously eat communion wafers like potato chips, yiga clan karaoke night 3, kohga gets the one-hit obliterator, and thE ORDER OF THE SEERS ADOPTS A RATTY-ASS DOGYou don't have to have read Exile//Vilify to follow this but I'd sure appreciate it if you did
Relationships: Astor/Original Characters, Master Kohga/Sooga
Comments: 70
Kudos: 102





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Exile//Vilify](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28086507) by [silverjirachi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverjirachi/pseuds/silverjirachi). 



> Hi guys! This is Supplementary Content™ that I don't think will fit in my main story but that I just See in My Mind and want to write about now. I expect it being a lot of extra scenes that would take place in the Yiga Clan hideout and Hyrule Castle primarily, most of them probably won't be very serious, but we'll see where it goes!
> 
> Please leave comments/kudos if you enjoy and give Exile//Vilify a read if you want to :) I'd really appreciate it.
> 
> if you like my writing and wanna see more of the stuff I do, you can find me on tumblr  
> @silverjirachi, or on my legend of zelda sideblog @sheikah-simp
> 
> i'll be posting updates there occasionally, as well as some art and content you won't be able to find here, so feel free to come follow and say hi!!
> 
> enjoy~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the focus of these one-shots flips all over the place, and very many of you might be reading for a variety of reasons (for example, to follow the ever-growing absolutely-platonic love saga between kohga and sooga) I've now decided to include a table of contents complete with small summaries of the fics for ease of navigation! I hope this helps you all find what you're looking for :3
> 
> Chapter numbers and titles should line up with the index, so you should be able to use the chapter index to navigate straight to the story you want to read! Please let me know if anything is ever wonky with the format or numbering.
> 
> Scroll to the bottom to see stories listed by character/character groupings who are the primary focus of the story.
> 
> Happy navigating~!

## Table of Contents - Chapters and Summaries

**1\. Table of Contents** \- you are here!!

[ **2\. In Which Kohga and Sooga are Really Just Friends** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/69883758)

  * They're really just friends. Kohga trains Sooga to carry him around everywhere and totally, platonically cuddle him.



[ **3\. Astor Has Stupid Visions** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/69920700#workskin)

  * Astor is haunted by ceaseless stupid visions he can do nothing to stop simply because he is a seer.



[ **4\. In Which Astor Has a Quick Argument about Fabrics and then Helps to Decorate Cupcakes** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70020867#workskin)

  * Astor helps decorate cupakes for the Princess' 3rd birthday



[ **5\. Yiga Clan Karaoke Night** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70021065#workskin)

  * Kohga sings Wonderwall to Sooga in a way that definitely isn't about his feelings for him



[ **6\. Prophecies to Waterfowl** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70106112#workskin)

  * King Rhoam takes Astor on a hunting trip because his wife told him to and it's very awkward the whole time



[ **7\. Exile//Vilify but it’s Among Us** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70141359#workskin)

  * A summary of my main fic that is exactly what it says it is



[ **8\. Blight Wrangling** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70106901#workskin)

  * A brief narrative summary of Astor's struggles in wrangling the blights



[ **9\. Hollow Wrangling** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70141809#workskin)

  * A brief narrative summary of Astor's struggles in wrangling the Hollows, also in which Hollow Revali does not have a crush on Hollow Link *wink wink*



[ **10\. Harbinger Wrangling** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70141830#workskin)

  * A very brief narrative summary of why the hell does the first Astor fight in Age of Calamity give you a boiled egg recipe



[ **11\. In Which Kohga and Sooga are Still Just Friends** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70142004#workskin)

  * Master Kohga devises an absolutely foolproof plan to gather some inside knowledge on Sooga. This plan is Truth or Dare.



[ **12\. Lady Urbosa Makes Master Kohga Drink Respect Women Juice** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70486650#workskin)

  * Kohga tries to get into Gerudo Town and Urbosa lets him, but only because they trick him into competing in the Miss Vai Battle Pageant



[ **13\. The Hot Spring Episode** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71098323)

  * Astor goes on a short vacation to the hot springs on Death Mountain and gets his shit kicked in by Daruk. Link watches.



[ **14\. Yiga Clan Karaoke Night 2: Total Eclipse of the Heart** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71098593#workskin)

  * Kohga again sings a song that isn't about his feelings for Sooga



[ **15\. What the King Didn’t Say** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71098671#workskin)

  * King Rhoam tells Astor he has 48 hours before he hunts him for sport



[ **16\. Growing Pains** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71099244#workskin)

  * Little Kohga, who is 16, struggles to adjust to his life as the new Kohga, but Sooga is there to help him through it.



[ **17\. Sparrows, Stars, and Shadow Puppets from a Doomsday Prophet to a Little Queen** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71944920#workskin)

  * The Queen visits Astor in his study with her daughter, Princess Zelda, and she makes shadow puppets to entertain her



[ **18\. The Siege of Fort Hateno** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71945241#workskin)

  * A narrative summary of a stupid thing that happened in my playthrough of Age of Calamity



[ **19\. In Which Astor Refuses to See Kohga Naked** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71945388#workskin)

  * Kohga asks Astor to see his future and whether or not that involves doing a little somethin somethin with Sooga you feel me



[ **20\. Rehydrated Ganondorf** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71945619#workskin)

  * Astor has been having visions of Rehydrated Ganondorf in his dreams and tries to visit him again because he has a crush on him



[ **21\. In Which the Relationship between Kohga and Sooga is Completely Platonic in Nature** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73629948)

  * Kohga learned a new word



[ **22\. A Fragmented Monument** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630038#workskin)

  * The royal family takes a trip to Lurelin Village. Baby Princess Zelda finds a very peculiar monument.



[ **23\. Voe and You** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630365#workskin)

  * Kohga sneaks back into Gerudo Town to take the "Voe and You" class to get some dating tips



[ **24\. Astor and Thelem Hide in the Closet Eating Communion Wafers Hoping Azelphir Doesn’t Catch Them** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630473#workskin)

  * I feel as if this title is self-explanatory



[ **25\. Yiga Clan Karaoke Night 3: They Try to Get Astor to Participate** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630533#workskin)

  * Shania Twain's classic and iconic hit, "Man! I Feel Like a Woman" but also featuring Hollow Link



[ **26\. The Order of the Seers Adopts a Dog, but the Dog also Happens to be the World’s First Rabies Survivor** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630683#workskin)

  * A dog that should by all clinical means be dead shows up at the Order of the Seers and Thelem adopts it



[ **27\. In Which Kohga Accurately Predicts the Existence and Location of the One-Hit Obliterator, and Yet Nobody Believes Him** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630866#workskin)

  * Kohga has the One-Hit Obliterator revealed to him in a dream and can do nothing about it except complain  




## Stories by Character Focus

### Kohga & Sooga (and their very platonic relationship thereof)

  * [In Which Kohga and Sooga are Really Just Friends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/69883758)
  * [Yiga Clan Karaoke Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70021065#workskin)
  * [In Which Kohga and Sooga are Still Just Friends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70142004#workskin)
  * [Yiga Clan Karaoke Night 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71098593#workskin)
  * [Growing Pains](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71099244#workskin)
  * [In Which the Relationship between Kohga and Sooga is Completely Platonic in Nature](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73629948)
  * [Voe an](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630365#workskin)[d You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630365#workskin)
  * [Yiga Clan Karaoke Night 3: They Try to Get Astor to Participate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630533#workskin)



### Astor, Hyrule Castle & Co. (Queen Zelda-Rose, King Rhoam, and Princess Zelda) {Pre-Exile}

  * [In Which Astor Has a Quick Argument About Fabrics and then Helps to Decorate Cupcakes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70020867#workskin)
  * [Prophecies to Waterfowl](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70106112#workskin)
  * [Exile//Vilify but it's Among Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70141359#workskin)
  * [What the King Didn't Say](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71098671#workskin)
  * [Sparrows, Stars, and Shadow Puppets from a Doomsday Prophet to a Little Queen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71944920#workskin)
  * [A Fragmented Monument](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630038#workskin)



### Astor, but he's Evil Now (in the Yiga Clan, Ganons, Hollows, and other general Rancid Behavior) {Post-Exile}

  * [Blight Wrangling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70106901#workskin)
  * [Hollow Wrangling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70141809#workskin)
  * [Harbinger Wrangling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70141830#workskin)
  * Suffering in any of the Yiga Clan Karaoke Nights
  * [The Hot Spring Episode](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71098323)
  * [The Siege of Fort Hateno](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71945241#workskin)
  * [In Which Astor Refuses to See Kohga Naked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71945388#workskin)



### The Order of the Seers {Good Universe & Exile Universe}

  * [A **st** or and Thelem Hide in the Closet Eating Communion Wafers Hoping Azelphir Doesn’t Catch Them](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630473#workskin)
  * [ The Order of the Seers Adopts a Dog, but the Dog also Happens to be the World’s First Rabies Survivor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630683#workskin)



### Miscellaneous

**Lady Urbosa & Kohga (Kohga in Gerudo Town)**

  * [Lady Urbosa Makes Master Kohga Drink Respect Women Juice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/70486650#workskin)
  * [Voe an](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630365#workskin)[d You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/73630365#workskin)



**Astor & Rehydrated Ganondorf**

  * [Rehydrated Ganondorf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519134/chapters/71945619#workskin)




	2. In Which Kohga and Sooga are Really Just Friends

Everyone and their grandma knew that Kohga and Sooga were really just friends.

And by that, I mean to say that everyone _except Sooga_ knew that they weren’t just friends. Or, at least, that Kohga wanted them to be. This was, unfortunately, Kohga’s own doing. When he had first won the title of Kohga at sixteen, he was appointed the most skilled up-and-coming blademaster to be his new personal bodyguard. That blademaster was Sooga. And Kohga almost instantly developed a huge fucking crush on him. But he would never, by god, tell _Sooga_ about it.

Sooga, like Kohga, had shined early on in his training. He was one of the few blademasters strong enough to dual-wield, and so he quickly outperformed those even in higher ranks. But, seeing as he was being trained as a blademaster--rather than a footsoldier, like our young Master Kohga--the two did not interact very often. Kohga had heard of Sooga, and Sooga had heard of Kohga, but it wasn’t until Kohga won the two-part Sickle-Wielding, Banana-Eating Naming Contest by eating an entire tableful of Mighty Bananas in one go--and thus, earning himself the title of Master Kohga, taking over for his late uncle--that Sooga had really seen Kohga in action. And, likewise, when Kohga began to see Sooga in action--and then _wanted_ some action, if you get my meaning.

As bodyguard and guarded-body, the two got along stupendously. Kohga, at sixteen, was the youngest chief the Yiga Clan had seen in a while--and was thus still learning the all the ins and outs of Kohga-ing--but Sooga, at eighteen--being a blade-wielding prodigy--was more than equipped to both protect the young chief and also to put up with all his tomfoolery. And oh, were the fooleries tommed.

By the first year of their relationship, Kohga had trained Sooga to pick him up and carry him on command. This, really, he had accomplished by the end of the second week, but it had gotten to the point where Kohga could just look at Sooga a certain way, and Sooga, saying nothing, would scoop Master Kohga up and carry him wherever he would need. Kohga often made way too much use of this around the base. It was a regular occurrence to see Kohga tire out in the middle of a meeting, or a party, or a training session, and simply put his arm on Sooga’s shoulder and continue on while Sooga held him there in a bridal carry. To Kohga, Sooga was a bit of a jungle gym--he would climb on his shoulders, hang from his arms, jump into his arms for a hug or to be carried while Sooga--being as large and strong as he was--simply accepted it all. He thought it was amusing, and made sense for someone so clever and spry as Master Kohga. Kohga was a former footsoldier, after all. And footsoldiers were known for being incredibly acrobatic. And, while this was still true, for Kohga, it was also just an excuse to get Sooga to hold and cuddle him.

But why stop there? Why not get Sooga to _actually_ cuddle him?

And so, by the end of their second year, Kohga had convinced Sooga to platonically--completely platonically, may I add--cuddle with him overnight. Kohga hadn’t really believed it had worked. At first, Sooga would simply guard Master Kohga’s door. When the Yiga Clan wasn’t sleeping in their iconic and legendary Yiga Clan After-Party Warmth-and-Comfort Defense Formation--which was, for all intents and purposes, a big drunken cuddle-puddle--Sooga would change shifts with other blademasters to keep watch outside of Master Kohga’s door. This was standard practice for Kohgas and their personal bodyguards. But then Kohga began to complain of terrible nightmares and sleep paralysis and insisted that he’d feel much safer if Sooga came and kept watch inside his room. Coincidentally, these night terrors never occurred when the other guards were on duty.

So Sooga kept watch in Master Kohga’s room, which he did not really mind at all. Kohga was great company, and the two would play cards or make pillow forts out of bananas when Kohga could not sleep. Kohga kept wanting to stay up and talk though, and Sooga began getting concerned about Master Kohga’s rest. Kohga insisted he was getting plenty of rest considering the fact that he slept for most of the day. Sooga agreed that this made sense, especially because the night terrors had started to go away. 

Sooga always asked Master Kohga if he wanted someone else to come in and guard him from his sleep paralysis demons whenever Sooga needed to end his shift for the night, but _No,_ Master Kohga would say, _You’re the only one who’ll do it right._ So when Sooga was off-duty, Kohga was willing to handle his sleep paralysis demons on his own. Yes. Those sleep paralysis demons. The sleep paralysis demons that totally actually existed and were not made up just to get him closer to his hunky bodyguard. And so, thanks to Sooga’s help and company, Master Kohga’s nightmares plagued him no longer. 

But it was so _cold_ in the Yiga Clan Hideout, you see, it was so cold that Master Kohga couldn’t _possibly_ get any sleep. The Gerudo Highlands were covered in snow, and even though the hideout itself was fairly insulated, there were just all these damn _rocks_ everywhere and the rocks reminded him of the outside and the outside was cold. Sooga brought Master Kohga piles and piles of blankets. He offered to build a fire for him. _No,_ Master Kohga said. _I think that would start a fire._ _‘Oh yes,’_ Sooga agreed. _‘That probably would start a fire.’_ So Master Kohga tossed and turned again and again, over his pile of blankets and pillows, his snuggly-warm pajamas and his fluffily-feathered sleeping cap, and sighed, exasperatedly.

 _“Soooooga,”_ he said. “I’m cooooold.”

“I’m sorry, Master Kohga,” Sooga said. “I’m not sure I can find any more blankets. And we can’t start a fire.”

“I _knooowwww,”_ he whined. “But I’m cold and I need a hug and I had an ideaaaaa.”

“What is it?” Sooga asked.

“Come cuddle meeeeee.”

Sooga looked at him, confused for a moment.

“Come cuddle meeeee,” he said again. “You’re big and warm and I bet it’d help.”

“Are you sure that’s alright, Master Kohga?” Sooga asked again. He certainly didn’t want to do anything that would make him uncomfortable. It seemed a bit of an odd request, but he supposed it would work.

“Yes I’m sure,” Kohga said. “Cuddling is okay here. Come cuddle me, as like, a friend.”

“Of course, sir,” Sooga said, setting his blade down and coming over to the side of Master Kohga’s bed. He found his way through the maze of blankets and Kohga almost immediately nuzzled up to him. He put his arm around him. Kohga couldn’t believe this actually fucking worked.

There was a long silence while Kohga nestled in further, trying to keep calm as he now had to hide both his total shock and disbelief as well as his pounding heartbeat. Would Sooga catch on to how majorly he was crushing right now?

Sooga did not notice at all.

But, after this long silence, when Kohga was finally just starting to relax and enjoy himself, Sooga asked, “What if I fall asleep?”

“That’s okay,” Kohga said. “It’s not like anybody’s gonna come get us.”

“But I’m on duty.”

“Then we’ll hire a new lackey to guard the door. Your job is now cuddle buddy,” Kohga said. “Sleep paralysis demons can’t get me here.”

“I suppose you’re right sir,” Sooga said.

And thus, Kohga and Sooga began totally, platonically sleeping together, in a totally platonic way.  
No, really.

All of the Yiga Clan might not have believed it. Kohga and Sooga were sleeping in the same room together, Kohga was constantly climbing all over him, and Kohga had even started joking about kissing him and calling him pet names like dear and sweetie. That was, they would have thought something more was going on, if not for Master Kohga pulling them aside when Sooga was away and frantically asking them for help.

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” Kohga said, desperately. Sooga was currently distracted with the other blademasters in the middle of a Banana Weight-Lifting Contest. “We literally sleep in the same bed. And he doesn’t. Fucking. Get it. _At all._ And I can’t just be straight and tell him because I’m gay.”

“Master Kohga, do you want us to tell him?” one of the footsoldiers asked.

“God no what if he likes me?!” Kohga said, loudly. Thankfully, Sooga had not heard. Kohga took a big swig of his spiked banana smoothie and groaned. _“God what the fuck am I gonna do?”_

No one really knew what to do, because Kohga refused to do anything in case it made things awkward, and Sooga was the only one in the hideout who didn’t know. Whenever any of the blademasters or footsoldiers would ask him about it, Sooga would go on about how inspirational he thought it was that Kohga was so openly affectionate with his friends. Friends can cuddle! Friends can sleep in the same bed! It should be acceptable and manly for men to hug and hold hands and show vulnerability to each other. Master Kohga was setting such a great example and it was going to do great things for the Yiga Clan.

So Master Kohga and Sooga platonically fell asleep together. Master Kohga and Sooga platonically cuddled. Master Kohga and Sooga platonically kissed each other on the cheek and Master Kohga would platonically snatch a kiss on Sooga’s lips when he was especially drunk. Master Kohga platonically called Sooga honey and dear and platonically referred to him as his husband. Platonically, and as a joke, of course. Sooga was his bodyguard, and they were around each other all the time, and they kissed occasionally and cuddled so it was kind of like they were husbands. But they weren’t! They were just friends. And Master Kohga wanted to scream. He wondered if his fate would ever change, but Astor refused to tell him.

So truly, if anyone asks, Kohga and Sooga are really just friends. But please don’t try to ask about it. Master Kohga will cry.


	3. Astor Has Stupid Visions

Once you become a psychic, you see, you cannot un-psychic yourself. And Astor had been plagued with visions since birth.

His mentor, Thelem, along with many other of his teachers in the Royal Order of Seers had warned him about this caveat. Sometimes, as a seer, you would just get _visions._ Random, pointless visions that nobody really cared about. Some from the past, some from the future, and most that would have no bearing on absolutely anything. But Astor hadn’t truly realized just how bad it could be.

He had always been odd as a child, so he always had strange visions. There was of course the standard stuff that frightened the other children--primarily, his frantic obsession with something he called a “Blood Moon” that, once in awhile, would cause him to go manic and chase them around town. But everyone knew about that. That was just Astor’s thing. But there were other things as well, things he didn’t find nearly as interesting, and, therefore, never talked about.

He worked for Rina--a plump, flirtatious woman who was the owner and operator of the only inn in town--because his inadvertent ability to make things die made him incompatible to work in his family’s vegetable garden. And he knew perhaps a little bit more about Rina than he liked to admit. This was both because Rina got entirely too chatty with him every time she drank--which was often--and also because, being a budding psychic, and being around her so often, it was inevitable that he just _saw things._

Rina’s husband was almost always gone. He, like her, had an obsession with alcohol, and would go on extended “whiskey tours” where he scoured Hyrule for the best and rarest brews to bring back to the inn. The problem was, he almost never brought back as much liquor as Rina was expecting. The truth was that he had a gambling problem. 

Astor knew this because once, while listening to Rina drink and chat about her husband and all the rare expensive liquor he bought, he had started to zone out and suddenly found himself standing in a dimly-lit tavern surrounded by Gorons. He had never been to Goron City, but, judging by the temperature and the lava he could see flowing outside, he knew that was where he had to be. He watched Rina’s husband there, at a table, playing poker with a few Gorons and then placing a bet that he could beat them in an arm wrestling match. And then placing a bet that he could beat them in a race carrying three rock roasts up the side of the hill. Then placing a bet that he could even stomach eating a rock roast at all. He lost each of those bets. The “rare, expensive liquor” Rina always talked about her husband always bringing back was there, and it was the most common and cheapest on the shelf.

Astor never told her, of course, because that wasn’t any of his business.

While her husband was away, it was therefore Rina’s responsibility to take care of the inn. And take care of it she did. Take care of her guests and… _all…_ their various needs. Not only would she get a bit too cozy with them in Astor’s own presence--brushing her hands against them, standing a bit too close or leaning in a bit too far and loosening the front ties of her bodice while holding a glass of wine--Astor had the unhappy fortune of accidentally walking in on Rina and her guests while she was-- _ahem_ \--”attending to them.” She started offering guests “Do Not Disturb” signs after the second time this occurred, but it unfortunately did not spare Astor--a young psychic yet unable to control his visions--from seeing what occurred.

He never told her husband, of course, because he was cheating on her as well.

But Astor didn’t only see peoples’ dirty laundry. He saw their regular laundry and daily chores and what they’d eat for dinner that day. And it sucked. Keeping secrets from Rina and her husband made him well prepared for the influx of visions he would have as a trained seer. Due to the laws of the Order, Astor was bound not to disclose his visions of the future unless prompted. This didn’t stop him from seeing the past, however, which he could respond to as he pleased. This skill only really came in handy once, when he had saved the Queen of Hyrule from an assassination attempt from a Yiga Clan member who had tried to poison her wine. But that was the only time he had a vision about something that even remotely mattered and had the opportunity to do something about it. The rest were… well, stupid.

He saw people eating breakfast. He saw people eating dinner. He saw a man who he knew would spend 4,000 rupees on nothing but hats later and could do nothing to stop him. Once he passed the cook in Hyrule Castle and knew he’d use a bit too much cilantro in the dish that night. Astor hated cilantro. It tasted like soap. And so he prepared himself to pick it meticulously out of the dish, until he saw that it was going to be mixed finely into the rice, at which point he resigned himself to his fate. He knew one day that Master Kohga would wake up in the morning and the first thing he would do would be to pick his nose, which would cause a nosebleed that would send him running to the bathroom. And while he got better at blocking them out and controlling them, he could really do nothing when one inevitably made its way in.

So Astor had stupid visions. And every single one of them sucked.


	4. Astor Has a Quick Argument about Fabrics and then Helps to Decorate Cupcakes

The tiny princess was fast approaching her third birthday, and her mother, Zelda-Rose, the Queen of Hyrule, was determined to pull out all the stops. Much like when, for her own birthday, the Castle and surrounding Castle Town were decorated head to toe with roses and banners, the Castle was now decked out with tiny sparrows and strings of origami birds for her daughter’s namesake, Sparrow. And this year, the Queen wanted to do something special for her daughter: give her a homemade cupcake tower full of her favorite Fruitcake--and to make sure that there were enough cupcakes involved to feed _absolutely everybody._

This would have been no problem for the Castle’s kitchen staff at all. They had an entire arsenal of ingredients, supplies, cooking utensils, and a budget that would feed a small village for a week. But the Queen, Zelda-Rose, simply thought that was too _impersonal._ Leaving it up to the cooks and kitchen staff took all the fun out of it. This was her very own daughter, and she was determined to be involved in the process from start to finish.

And so, the night before her birthday, the Royal Court’s attention was devoted to one thing: baking. Queen Zelda sent out invitations to the entire Court, but everyone was just so busy this time of year… every time of year, you see, so attendance varied. Still, there was a healthy turnout, and about half of the Royal Court filed into the Castle’s spacious kitchen where cooking tables were already prepared with baking ingredients and dishes full of sprinkles and sliced fruit.

Astor hadn’t necessarily been planning on coming, but, then again, he knew Queen Zelda-Rose would be so disappointed if he didn’t. She was always going out of her way to make sure he was included in everything. Perhaps this was because of how close she was to her own Royal Seer when she was a child, and so now she hoped to foster a similar relationship between him, her daughter, and herself. And, just as usual, she lit up as soon as he entered.

“Astor!” she said, darting over to him. “I’m so happy you’re here.” She gave him a nod, almost a curtsy, because it was improper of a Queen to hug those she wasn’t related to--or anyone, for that matter. If she had her way, she would have thrown her arms around him. So the energy was there.

“Oh, um, of course,” Astor said, although tense. His only real cooking experience had been as a young teenager back when he still worked at the inn in Hateno Village. And those experiences had been, overwhelmingly, negative.

“This is going to mean everything to my little bird.”

That made him happy, at least. Hearing Zelda-Rose refer to her own Zelda as her little bird always brought a bit of joy to him, especially knowing how much her child meant to her. Astor scanned the room and found many familiar faces from the Court--as well as another familiar Gerudo woman whom the Queen regularly spent her time with. Astor was familiar with her, although had not often spoken with her. She was the current chief of the Gerudo and a highly-skilled warrior, but it wasn’t something she flaunted. People were pairing off to different tables, and Astor was still adjusting to the room when he caught sight of another much shorter woman coming toward him. Her name was Mari and she worked handling the wardrobe for officials of the Court, including the Queen herself. She gave him a playful shove when she saw him. 

“Hey there hot stuff,” she said, almost winking. She herself was not very high-ranking, and thus got away with much more casual behavior and speech than the rest. However, Astor, being higher-ranking, did not. He nodded to her politely.

“Mari. Good to see you again.”

The two had something of a relationship awhile back, but Astor had distanced himself from her more recently, which she acknowledged, but didn’t seem to mind. This fact was more uncomfortable for Astor than it was for Mari, who was much more adept in social situations in general, and was just as willing to extend plain friendship to him as she was to occasionally flirt. He still appreciated her company, however, even if--for a slew of reasons--he found it better to get space. She sized his robes up and down and shook her head.

“You’re wearing the old ones again.”

“They fit nicely! I don’t need new ones.”

“We gave you new ones last year.”

“That’s wasteful. These are fine.”

“It makes you look--”

“The new ones have _imported fibers.”_

“Yes! They’re more expensive! So you need to _wear them.”_

“It interferes with the energy.”

“As if it makes a difference.”

“It _does_ make a difference, actually,” Astor said, shortly. “Fibers from non-native plants and animals gather all sorts of negative energy in transit, and thus take a much longer time to cleanse and attune to. Tell Wardrobe to stop messing with my garments for aesthetic purposes when what we’ve done before has worked for centuries and has metaphysical ramifications.”

Mari widened her eyes, but then laughed. He’d been on them about this for awhile, and she knew how fussy the Royal Seers got about their clothing. “Pshh okay, whatever you say” she said. She rolled her eyes like she didn’t believe him, but Astor was being serious.

Once everyone had found their places at a table, the Queen stepped forward to address them, accompanied by the head pastry chef.

“Hello everyone!” she said. “Thank you so much for coming to celebrate my little bird’s birthday. She’s going to be so happy when she sees everything we’ve done for her.” She paused for a moment, happily assessing those from the Court gathered there as if looking out to her big, loving family. She then raised up one of the test cupcakes to show it to them. It had white frosting with slices of orange, lime, grapes, and strawberry on top. “Today we’re going to be making these,” she said. “Fruitcake. My little Zelda’s favorite.”

She hovered around the room, helping here and there while the pastry chef led everyone through what to do. Although, many of the ingredients were already prepared, and it was just a matter of mixing them together. Astor wasn’t particularly good at pouring the batter into the precise little cupcake tins, and he was a bit wary of getting anything on his robes. Still, Mari helped him along, and the most difficult part was stopping the batter halfway through in order to drop a little cherry or slice of orange on the inside. It seemed to work best when Mari poured the batter and Astor dropped the fruit. This also allowed him to keep his sleeves well away from any drippy parts of the batter.

While the cupcakes were all baking in the ovens, the Queen went around and distributed the test batch to the attendants along with some sparkling juice. As everyone enjoyed their treats, the Queen slipped away quietly to go find her husband, who was noticeably missing from the festivities. The warm smells of vanilla and sugar lifted themselves in the room. And then, just in time for the cupcakes to finish baking, Zelda-Rose came back in accompanied by the King. The other attendants could hear her as she said, _“Your very own daughter, Rhoam!”_ nearly dragging him by the ears, and finally dropping him off at the front table with herself and the pastry chef. And so even the King helped to decorate the cupcakes, and that was the end of that.

While the pastry chef was adamant that everyone use the display cupcake as an example to get the decoration right, the Queen again thought this was much too impersonal and politely demanded that everyone use their hearts and decorate with love. What would be the point of baking if not? For the first few, Astor wasn’t really sure what “baking with love” meant and stuck pretty closely to the example, but by the time he got to the fourth or fifth cupcake, he started to wonder what other designs he could make with the fruit. Inspired by the star-shaped sprinkles in a shaker on the table, he began arranging the slices of fruit into colorful star shapes--and then some with constellations and even a crescent moon. 

The Queen, passing by, happened to see one of the stars and praised him for the creativity. It was sweet, she said, as someone who reads the stars for a living to add such a personal touch. Astor hadn’t thought about it like that, but when the Queen pointed it out to him, he supposed it was kind of nice. Mostly, though, Astor was just happy that he was doing it correctly--even if he didn’t exactly know what he was doing. By the tenth or so cupcake, Astor was very invested in the details. So much so that he could no longer hold a conversation with Mari. Cupcake decorating was very serious business, and he was determined to excel at it.

Once all the cupcake decorating was complete--which took awhile, but wasn’t all too bad when everyone was working in pairs--the Queen went around and collected one cupcake from each person that she would put on display to give to her daughter tomorrow. It was a little cupcake tower with fairy lights and the winged crest of the Royal Family on top. They had also added little toy sparrows for decoration. She invited members of the Court to stop by tomorrow for Zelda’s party and nearly begged Astor to come along. And how could Astor say no to the Queen?

So the next day, a smaller handful of members of the Court gathered in a sitting room to distribute gifts for Princess Zelda’s birthday. Smaller, of course, was relative, because both the King and Queen were almost constantly followed by Royal Guards and personal attendants. This group, however, was much more intimate than even the Court at half-capacity--really, Queen Zelda’s inner circle. Those she considered friends and family. And, being as close-knit a family as it was, Astor was always a bit bewildered that he was welcome there.

Some higher members of the Court brought gifts for the Princess--mostly, those who thought they had something to gain by impressing the Queen. But even some of the servants and the Queen’s personal attendants who knew Zelda-Rose and her daughter a bit more closely offered something. And the Queen, Zelda-Rose, made sure everyone in the Castle knew there were plenty of cupcakes to go around in addition to the feast later and the array of desserts that would be offered there. _“Tell everyone there are cupcakes,”_ she would say as each guest stopped by that day. _“Make sure everyone knows about the cupcakes.”_

Everyone knew about the cupcakes. She was practically throwing them at people.

After opening a few presents from her mother, father, and other attendants, the little Princess Zelda’s face lit up when she saw two more attendants rolling in an elaborate cupcake tower complete with balloons. They sang her Happy Birthday, and her mother and father lifted her up so she could blow out the candles on the top. Zelda-Rose also did a few tricks with the light from her Goddess Power to keep her daughter entertained--something that always made the little Zelda-Sparrow so smiley and giggly, to the delight of the rest of the Court.

Astor stood nearer to the outskirts of the room, feeling a bit out of place, as always, even though the Queen was constantly ushering him over to make him feel included. Her efforts weren’t going to matter, though, when he knew that something was inherently wrong with him, considering the prophecy. But the prophecy was something he often tried to forget, and most of the inner Court either didn’t know or had agreed not to talk about it. 

But, her efforts did at least remind him to enjoy what he had for the moment, in a way that his mentor Thelem also did. It was precious to watch the little family opening gifts, Zelda-Rose and her daughter getting frosting on their noses and making tiny birds out of pure light. To feel like he belonged there--even vicariously--meant something to Astor despite whatever the future would hold. And, although he had nothing to offer her, when it came time for the tiny princess to pick her first cupcake, he spied from across the room that she was holding one with star-shaped fruit. And that made him feel good.


	5. Yiga Clan Karaoke Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which the author uses a stale meme

Every Thursday night in the Yiga Clan Hideout was Karaoke Night, much to the prophet’s extreme displeasure. So every Thursday around 7pm when karaoke would begin, Astor would hunker down into his corner of the hideout, stuff cotton into his ears, and carry on with his evening wishing he did not exist.

But 7pm, you see, also happened to coincide with sunset. And, as was taught to him during his training, the evening twilight was the highest, most holiest point of day; for it was when the days’ events had all come and gone, and the fate of tomorrow was being decided. It was when the veil between the Earth and the spirit realm was its thinnest, and thus was ripe time for divination work. It was just also, unfortunately, ripe time for Master-Kohga-Getting-Drunk-and-Partying work.

So on Thursday nights, Astor would often bundle up and do his prayers outside, lighting his lanterns and carrying them back into the hideout at dusk. This, of course, entailed him having to walk back _in_ to the hideout at some point, and from there, there was no telling what he would see.

On this particular day, Master Kohga was sprawled across the table among a horde of Mighty Bananas, leaning over to Sooga and singing. Astor happened to walk in just as he had finished an apparently Very Important Party Speech, which he then ended with, “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.” Astor shuddered. He picked up the pace.

From atop the table, Master Kohga did a little flourish and a large number of the Yiga began to cheer as the young chief walked showily across it, stopping at the end where his protector stood, and then said, “This one goes out to my man, Sooga.” More cheers. Astor managed to duck back into the safety of his room just before the screeching, horrid chorus of _“Today is gonna be the day that they’re gonna throw it back to you,”_ began to ring out.

But even through the closed the door, Astor was having a stupid vision. Or really, maybe just knew Kohga a little too well. He could see him laid out across the table in an exaggerated decadence, seductively playing with the fallen strands of his hair and brushing his hand against Sooga’s face, singing, _“I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.”_

That was deep. Everyone but Astor was singing along, nearly crying from how deep it was. Astor slammed his fist against the door, but he knew it was of no use as the music swelled, drowning him out entirely. Kohga took Sooga by the hand and looked him in the eyes, doing everything he could to command Sooga’s attention and hopefully get it through his thick skull.

_“There are many things that I would like to say to you,  
But I don’t know hoowwwwwwww--”_

And the Yiga Clan really felt that. The rest of them began to join in for the chorus even more loudly so that Master Kohga would not be so alone in his hundredth-millionth confession of love.

They sang. They drank. They felt things. And meanwhile, Astor huddled in his room and wondered if there was anything strong enough there to knock him out until at least Sunday. But he knew there wasn’t, and that they’d do this all again next week. As they always did. As they always would. 

The Yiga voices rang out loud and clear:  
 _“And after alllllll, you’re my Wonderwallll~”_


	6. Prophecies to Waterfowl

On the west side of Hyrule Castle, there was a small island with a forest and a quarry that was also reserved for the private royal hunting grounds. The King had a penchant for hunting and outdoorsmanship. It was a long-standing tradition among many nobility--the royals in Hyrule being no exception. Queen Zelda stayed away from these activities herself, of course, but King Rhoam frequently liked to go out onto the grounds to relieve stress and clear his head.

Despite Astor having been in the castle for several years, relations between himself and the King were still very tense. He and the Queen got along spectacularly--although, the Queen got along spectacularly with just about everyone--but for some reason, King Rhoam still did not take very fondly to Astor, nor the royal tradition of prophecy as a whole. He was suspicious of the amount of faith Zelda and her bloodline put in the Royal Seers, especially because the Seers were trained by a cult that swore no allegiance to Hylia, but rather to “Fate Itself.” He didn’t think anyone that near to the Royal Family should be so close without swearing allegiance to Hylia, especially considering the Queen herself carried her sacred blood. But still, despite King Rhoams loud and obvious reservations, the Queen assured him that everything was fine.

And thus, one evening after a particularly tense dinner in which Astor was permitted to attend, the Queen pulled her husband aside as they were making their way back to their chambers.

“Rhoam,” she said, tying her hair up for the evening and checking her gown in the mirror. “I think you should be making a better effort to get along with Astor.”

The King gave her a look. He hadn’t noticed anything out of place during his interactions with the man this evening. “Why? We get along well enough.”

“You hardly talk to him at all.”

“Why should I need to? We don’t need to be best friends with everyone in the Court.”

“I disagree,” the Queen said. “I think that we should be fostering pleasant relationships with _everyone_ in our kingdom, especially those we interact with day to day.”

The King was silent, but Queen Zelda-Rose finished with her hair and came even closer to him to level with him as his wife. She reached for his hands and swayed them around a bit. “I know conversation does not come easily to you, love, but I know you well enough to tell the difference between your hostile silence and your friendly one,” she said. “I know you distrust Astor. But perhaps if you got to know him a bit better, you’d find he’s not all that bad. In fact, I myself find that he’s quite pleasant company.”

“I know you do,” the King said with a sigh. It seemed like the Queen visited the Seer nearly every day. He had learned to temper his distrust and irritation with this, knowing she was kind and accepting almost to a fault. He was wary, but she seemed to be safe. ”But I’m simply not blessed with the same social graces as you.”

“But you can learn to have them,” Queen Zelda said. She ran her palm over his own hand and studied it. She looked back up to him deeply. “It would mean the world to me if you tried to get along.”

Dammit. She was using the eyes. Rhoam knew he was cornered now. “Alright, my love. For you, I know I cannot refuse.”

The Queen’s face lit up like a beam. She went up on her toes to kiss her husband, but he still hand to lean down a bit to meet her there. “Thank you dear,” she said. “Perhaps you could take him out with you to hunt? I think that would give you two some excellent bonding time.”

Rhoam furrowed his brow. The little Seer didn’t seem like the type for hunting, but he supposed it was better than anything else he could think of. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll think on it some more, then extend my invitation.”

Astor was not the type for hunting. In fact, he had never been at all. He knew that it was standard for nobility to do such things, but he himself was not born into riches, and had never even shot a bow. So he was quite perplexed when the King extended an invitation to him, but, being the King, he knew he didn’t have the option of saying no. And, despite how well-intentioned the invitation appeared to be, he still had to reckon with the fear in the back of his mind that told him _he_ would be the thing that was being hunted.

So Astor, accompanied on horseback by the King and several Royal Guards, went out to the grounds to search for game. It came as a surprise to no one that Astor had a severe lack of familiarity with the sport, and so they spent the first few hours of the day acquainting Astor with a bow and letting him practice on a few targets. He hardly hit the targets at all, but enjoyed how it felt sort of regal to hold the bow. He wished he could have the job of the Falconer who had joined them. It seemed much easier to loosen a bird into the air and let it bring back what it could find. Perhaps he could just assist in setting up some traps. King Rhoam spent this time nearby chopping wood with a large woodcutter’s axe, which intimidated Astor greatly.

After this, the party set out to scout around the forest, following any tracks or signs of wildlife. The hunting grounds were well-maintained, its workers being very diligent to ensure there were ample resources for wildlife, and the King had gone out enough to be very familiar with their movement. Still, despite their best efforts, this just didn’t seem to be a very fruitful day. It was early in the season, so they suspected the best they could do was bring back a few waterfowl.

Rhoam took a seat on a stump of one of the trees he had cut earlier and set his axe down beside him. He sighed deeply as he settled into it and stared out over the water while the guards attended to the horses nearby. Astor, standing in the vicinity, realized perhaps he should be trying to make conversation.

“Your Majesty,” he said, giving a polite bow of his head. “Thank you for granting me the privilege of accompanying you today. I greatly appreciate you extending the offer.”

“Thank you for accompanying me,” Rhoam said. “I know this isn’t exactly your element.”

“It’s no bother at all, my lord,” Astor said. “It’s a great honor to have been invited.”

“There’s no need to be so formal.”

This took Astor by surprise. But there was an air different about Rhoam out in the wild. He seemed to loosen, breathe more easily, and overall his demeanor was much more modest, even down to the simplicity of his clothes and the unassuming cloak that went with them. But Astor, still dressed in the regal vestments he wore every day, both out of his religious duty and respect for the King, was not sure he knew of another way to behave. That, and he knew he had better tread his grounds carefully. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I would prefer it to always address you with the highest regard.”

“I understand.”

A long silence befell the two of them. Even if Astor wasn’t one for hunting, as they listened to the water and flitting songs between birds into the distance, there was something deeply refreshing, almost contemplative, about being in the forest. Eventually, Rhoam sighed again and shifted his position on his seat.

“You know, if I’m being honest, my wife is the one who suggested I spend time with you,” he said. “She’s much better at being social than I.”

Ah. So that was why he was here. It was starting to make sense, then.

“Her Grace certainly has a way with her subjects,” Astor said. “She is quite the example for us all.”

“She is. Quite the joy,” Rhoam agreed. Another contemplative silence fell between the two of them as they had now broached the topic of the Queen. Rhoam shifted again and leaned forward, rubbing his hands together so as not to dwell on it for too long. “But I apologize if it’s not been very eventful. Some days there’s much more activity. Still, I always find it nice to be out in the open air,” he said. “It gets so stuffy in there sometimes.”

“I very much agree.”

There was a lighter silence now. They both smiled. At least on that, they could agree.

“Still, it’s a shame we can’t find any bigger game. It’d be nice to come by our first deer of the season.”

Astor paused. He looked out for a moment out to the water, then glanced around the trees and the foliage around them, but had no idea how to even begin to understand what he was looking for. “Are there any deer tracks around, my lord?”

“Why, they’re everywhere. Some just around there,” Rhoam said, gesturing behind them. “The only issue is they’re afraid of us.”

Astor paused again, formulating if there was any way for him to do what he thought he needed to do. He couldn’t guarantee there would be any game, but he supposed it wouldn’t be any harm to look. “If you’ll excuse me for one moment, Your Majesty,” he said, and turned to walk deeper into the woods.

King Rhoam watched as Astor took off in the direction of the tracks, searching the ground carefully so as to not miss anything. When he thought he had spotted what he was looking for--he could only speculate based on his own loose knowledge of hoof tracks--the King then saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a glassy, teardrop-shaped pendulum on a thin silver chain. Astor knelt down to the tracks and pressed his fingertips on them, closing his eyes and focusing carefully. After a moment, Rhoam watched as the pendulum began to sway without movement from Astor’s hand. Astor then paused again, focusing harder, and then stood up staring blankly off into the direction the pendulum had swung.

“My lord, if you would follow me,” he said. The King was taken back for a moment as it sounded not so much like a suggestion, but fell only a bit short of an order. 

“What?”

“I believe I can find you your first deer of the season,” Astor said. “In fact, I can guarantee.”

Rhoam stood up, raising an eyebrow at the sheer factuality with which Astor had said the words. That was quite the mighty bargain.

Skeptical, but interested to see what would occur, the King took the company and followed Astor down the path. He wasn’t being particularly stealthy, but he seemed intently focused on drawing himself forward, scoping the scenery much more broadly than they normally would searching for game. The party noticed how Astor continued to hold the pendulum out in front of him, stopping every now and then to adjust his focus. He would pause to check in with its movements, much in the way they would for real game, then follow its direction as it would turn one way or another. The method was certainly unorthodox, but the seasoned hunters were charmed by his effort, if anything else. 

At last, the pendulum came to a steady, circular swing before slowing to a stop entirely. Astor looked around and noticed the curve of a tree branch congruent with the one he had seen in his focus.

“Here,” he said, confidently.

Rhoam raised an eyebrow. There were no deer in sight.

“They don’t normally come through this part,” the King said, resting his axe again on a nearby log.

“Well, I can assure you, Your Majesty, one will be here today,” Astor said. “We may just need to lie in wait for a bit.”

King Rhoam scratched his beard for a moment in thought. ‘A bit’ could range anywhere from a couple minutes to several hours. Surely _any_ sort of game would come by if you sat and waited long enough, but Rhoam wasn’t ready to invest that kind of time humoring childish play with superstition. Rhoam leaned back, settling himself down onto the log and stretched out his legs. At least the seat was comfortable.

“I’ll give it five minutes,” he said, crossing his arms.

“That will be plenty of time,” Astor said.

The King and the rest of the party looked silently onward to the spot that Astor had designated. The moments were tense, and curious, brimming with just as much anticipation as they were with skepticism, which drew the time out even longer. But, after five minutes had come and gone and there was still not sight of a single deer, the King stood up, looked around and addressed the others.

“Well, alright then. We played your game. Let’s get back to the real work,” he said.

“I’m confident that this is the truth, Your Majesty” Astor said. “I mean you no disrespect. I am only reporting what I see.”

“I’m not nearly as confident as you, then. I know you tried your best, but I’d rather spend my time hunting real game, not chasing imaginary prophecies,” he said, walking back the way they came.

The group walked back to a more fruitful part of the landscape, mostly in silence, with Astor now doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out how the pieces would fall together. He knew that had been the spot. The curve in the tree, the rock on the side of the path. The way the foliage opened up just a little bit so seeing off the grounds and into the open field was possible. A while-tailed deer, standing with him and the party there. Would he perhaps accompany them there on another day? 

Though, as he tried to reason these things to himself, he knew it would be a waste of his time to attempt to justify himself to someone so opposed to the whole premise in the first place. Astor thought that he would probably have better luck dispensing his prophecies to the waterfowl. The fowl, at least, would not talk back.

After another hour or so of catching--a fox or two and a few more ducks--the party returned to their horses and began to make their way back for the evening. They opted to go the long way around--making their way into the Castle from the back as opposed to the front and through Castle Town, where people would be buzzing around for the evening before dinner, and curious to see what the King had caught. But as they made their way back on horseback, they happened to cross back through the area Astor had led them to.

A white-tailed deer stopped dead in its tracks.

Rhoam looked over to Astor in surprise. Astor did not give him an “I-told-you-so,” but felt a nice wave of relief as yet another one of his prophecies had been delivered true. Now that he knew how to commune with her, Fate always, always delivered.

They knew they didn’t have much time, as the deer had already spotted them, but the King drew his bow and hit the deer quickly. It fell, and the rest of the group went over to subdue and kill it, while Astor stayed back on his horse. They put the deer in the back of the cart and the King again mounted his horse.

“Well, I can’t say exactly how you did it,” Rhoam said, swinging himself up on the saddle. “It’s no hunting method I’ve ever seen. But, you delivered true on your word, exactly as you said it would be. And that, my boy, is quite the feat.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Astor said, bowing. “But it was not by my own word. By word of Fate was it brought to you. I only see.”

Of course. Fate again. Rhoam had a complicated relationship with these Seers and that word, and hated to be reminded of their obsession with it, but shrugged it off and recovered with a laugh. “Perhaps we should have you out for all our hunting then!”

Astor laughed politely, but desperately hoped this wouldn’t become a regular thing.

“I’m only kidding, I wouldn’t drag you out for that,” King Rhoam said, seeing his concern. “Besides, I wouldn’t want my game handed to me. I enjoy the hunt, the challenge of it. It sharpens my mettle. Reminds me what it takes to lead.” There was a pause. “Having all things granted to me by fate would make life far too easy.”

Astor furrowed his brow. That wasn’t exactly how Fate worked-- _all things_ were accounted for by Fate, inherently--but he knew that not most common folk, nay, even kings, were willing to accept that.

The group started back to Hyrule Castle. While by no means perfect, King Rhoam had at least found it interesting to bring him along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my boyfriend thought this chapter should have been titled "the art of missed fowl." say it out loud a couple times and maybe you'll get it


	7. Exile//Vilify but it's Among Us

King Rhoam: blue

Queen Zelda-Rose: pink

\---

kingofhyrule: purple is sus

zeldarose^-^: purple was with me the whole time and didnt kill anyone

kingofhyrule: purple is literally the imposter orange saw him with calamity ganon

orange: yea

zeldarose^-^: orange cheated and is wrong.

kingofhyrule: purple is the imposter

zeldarose^-^: purple is a friend!!

astor (purple): no purple literally is the imposter but im just here to do tasks


	8. Blight Wrangling

Calamity Ganon ordered that Astor create four vessels for his Malice to inhabit. These would each correspond to the elements of the four Divine Beasts, who were currently being excavated. In order to do so, Astor had to do a bit of dumpster diving to gather ancient parts. With the Yiga’s help, they gutted a few Guardians and gathered the other materials and monster parts that Astor needed to raise his four beautiful frankensteins.

But wrangling a Blight, you see was not as easy as it would sound. And it doesn’t sound very easy to begin with. So it was, in fact, very particularly, quite hard.

Windblight Ganon, the Scourge of Divine Beast Vah Medoh--or, Ol’ Laser Hands, as the Yiga called him--was the most docile. That was, except for when he was trying to sweep them all up in miniature tornadoes, sending uncontrollable gusts of wind through the hideout, scattering Yiga and bananas everywhere. Astor was working on getting him to better control the tornadoes and shoot the spikes that could detach from its arms, but the Yiga were trying to learn how to play darts with it.

Waterblight Ganon was the next most docile, but this might have been because it was not close enough to a reliable source of water to cause any damage, say by knocking you off course and making you swim frantically back to land before throwing its stupid spear at you to kill you. It liked its spear a bit too much, though, and really enjoyed impaling things. Luckily, it had not impaled any humans. Yet.

Fireblight Ganon was not what the kids would call tame, but it was rather predictable. As long as it was fed, it was happy. And there were plenty of bananas to inhale, much to the displeasure of the Yiga Clan. They did find it impressive how many it was able to go through, however, and would have made it an honorary Yiga if not for the fact it wanted to kill them. They also discovered later on it was a very big fan of headbanging to certain music, much to the displeasure of a few unfortunate Yiga who happened to be standing there when it occurred.

Thunderblight Ganon was fucking hell on earth, and I think I really don’t need to go into the details on why.

With all the work it took in parenting the Blights, Astor began to wonder how they would ever cooperate during the Calamity. But, on the other hand, he knew all he had to do was plant them there, and the rest really was not his problem.


	9. Hollow Wrangling

Calamity Ganon ordered that Astor create four beings of pure Malice to mimic the Champions. These were really just backup in case the whole Blights thing didn’t work out, but Astor was allowed to use them as his own personal bodyguards.

That is, he would have, if he actually could get any of them to get along.

The Hollows you see, possessed enough intelligence to embody the essence of each Champion--their general personalities, their fighting style--but they were not intelligent enough to hold long, coherent thoughts and operated on a very base, near mindless level of existence. This led to some very bizarre interactions between the group. On top of this, they all could communicate telepathically with each other and with Astor, but only with base-level thoughts. This resulted in things like:

Mipha going “LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK” any time Link’s Hollow was not around. And much more loudly any time Link’s Hollow was around. She tried to be around him so much so that she wouldn’t listen to the rest of the group.

Daruk stopping to eat rocks the way the Yiga stopped for Mighty Bananas. He and Link got into frequent rock-eating competitions and Daruk would often roll into the other Hollows on purpose to launch them off great heights.

Link’s Hollow eating everything. Everything. He had to taste everything in sight. He also, for some strange reason, would not stop cutting grass, and would go into a blind fury and break any pottery if he saw it. If he had bombs, he would probably blow himself up with them. All he could say was ‘HYAH,’ but Astor knew that one was actually normal.

Urbosa’s Hollow just electrocuted everything and sliced everyone’s head off if they misbehaved.

But that was it for the Champions. The more he worked with them, the more he was getting the four of them to behave. Though, for some inexplicable reason, he got the odd sense that something was missing, but couldn’t exactly place what. He looked around, counted them, didn’t think that anything was necessarily out of place, but then a flurry of arrows rushed by, impaling Link and killing him immediately.

Oh yes. The flying one.

Though, for whatever reason, despite Revali’s Hollow possessing the primal, uncontrollable urge to kill Hollow Link on sight, it also acted like it had a crush on him? Astor supposed maybe it was some sort of glitch carried over from Mipha’s Hollow. She was pretty loud about it, after all.

But even after calibrating and recalibrating the Hollows to work together, smoothing out their thoughts and functions more and more, Revali’s glitch never seemed to go away. Astor figured it was probably fine. That wasn’t really his business either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> revalink confirmed??


	10. Harbinger Wrangling

Calamity Ganon did not order anything in particular, but accidentally possessed an egg one day. Astor hated it, and would have rather made it hard-boiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> puts a new spin on 'deviled eggs'


	11. In Which Kohga and Sooga are Still Just Friends

Master Kohga had devised yet another, top-secret genius plan that would definitely get Sooga to platonically uh… un-platonically like him. It was a secret intelligence mission, you see, and he knew it was absolutely foolproof.

While Sooga and the blademasters were distracted with their daily drills, Kohga interrupted the footsoldiers in their training and pulled them all aside.

“Alright y'all, so I have a plan,” he said.

“Oooh lemme hear it,” one of them replied.

Kohga pulled out a large scroll of paper he had been carrying, cleared some Mighty Bananas off the table, and slammed it down for them all to see. No sort of huge battle map was written out on it or anything, just the large words scrawled out to say “YIGA CLAN SLUMBER PARTY.” A small picture of himself and Sooga holding hands--accompanied by some of the other Yiga members--was drawn roughly in crayon on the bottom. They were all wearing sleeping caps.

The other footsoldiers looked to the battle map, confused. “But Master Kohga,” one of them asked. “Aren’t we always kind of having a slumber party?”

“No you dolt, listen,” Master Kohga said. He took out a red crayon and wrote, boldly, underlining it twice, the words: **TRUTH OR DARE.**

 _'_ _Ahhh,’_ the Yiga Clan said. It was starting to come together.

“So here’s how it’s gonna go…”

And so, following Master Kohga’s supreme, foolproof plan, the Yiga Clan assembled and hosted the biggest, blowout slumber party Karusa Valley had ever seen. There were pillows. There were blankets. There were pillow fights and Mighty Bananas. It was all going perfect. One might even say it was all going according to plan.

And then came the moment to strike. Kohga, being too scared to initiate contact, planted another one of the footsoldiers to begin Operation Truth or Dare. After the soldier suggested it, Kohga jumped up saying it was an excellent idea--perhaps a bit too fervently--and said it was just the thing to make their slumber party right. An idea right up there with Spin the Bottle, even. Which was an even greater idea than Truth or Dare that Kohga hadn’t realized until just about now.

Operation Truth or Dare was a-go. And the Yiga Clan was really just back doing the same bullshit they always did at their parties, but for a reason this time. And then it fell upon another one of the soldiers to ask the million-dollar-question:

“Sooga. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Sooga said, immediately.

Kohga and the other members looked frantically around to one another. They hadn’t accounted for that part of the equation. There was a tense pause, until another footsoldier recovered, slyly.

“You have to pick truth, actually.”

“Oh, okay,” Sooga said. Kohga was relieved that one of his soldiers had saved him.

Everyone now leaned in together. Kohga rubbed his palms together because they were sweating. The footsoldier brave enough to ask the question now leaned in and looked Sooga dead in the eyes and asked,

“Do you _like_ Master Kohga??”

Everyone pretended to be shocked and embarrassed. There were even a few astonished _‘Ooooo’s’_ and _‘Ahhhh’s_ ’ from the crowd. Kohga hung on, expectantly. They all looked around to each other. Sooga looked at them all, confused. He didn’t know exactly what to say.

“Like, _like-like_ him??” the soldier asked again.

“Oh. Well. Um,” Sooga said, trying to read the room. But he wasn’t really equipped for reading the room at all. He had better play it safe. He didn’t want to embarrass Master Kohga. He knew they were just platonic friends, and people always teased them about how affectionate Kohga was to him. “Of course I like Master Kohga! But we are just friends. Friends are allowed to be close like that and there’s nothing more to it at all. Isn’t that right, Master Kohga?”

“YEP,” Kohga yelled, quickly. He was sweating arrows, because bullets did not exist. Sooga was disappointed that his own team members had embarrassed Master Kohga once again. “I THINK THAT JUST ABOUT DOES IT. GAME OVER. NAPTIME, BOYS.”

“What??”

“But we just started!”

“NAPTIME, BOYS.”

And that was the last time they played Truth or Dare for awhile.


	12. Lady Urbosa Makes Master Kohga Drink Respect Women Juice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first annual Miss Vai Battle Pageant

The new chief was young.

No, not Urbosa. She had been leading the Gerudo people for a while now and, while she had risen as chief relatively young--as many people in this universe oddly seemed to--she was now in her mid-thirties. No, but the new chief of the Yiga Clan was _Young_ -young. So young, in fact, that she would almost feel guilty trying to teach him a lesson. But not guilty enough to not try. She just needed to reframe her tactics.

Lucky for her, the new chief was _ballsy_. But he was also very stupid, as Kohgas often were. Recently, he had been trying to get into Gerudo Town. Normally, these raids happened overnight, and the Yiga would simply invade trying to steal food, gems, and other items. Owning any bananas made you a prime target for these raids, and so there were often discussions of just flat-out banning bananas from the city right there next to voe. Urbosa thought that was taking things too far.

But the new Kohga wasn’t a fan of the night raids. In addition to the strong vai of Gerudo Town being well-equipped to bash out any nonsense--proving the raids more trouble than they were worth--Kohga just thought they were too _predictable_ . He wanted to do what had never been done before, and that was to do the stuff of legends. The stuff that only the most legendary, most mythical, most manliest men of all time do. And that was to get into Gerudo Town _during the day,_ past the guards, by dressing in drag, putting on some lipstick, and waltzing right in through the front door.

Unfortunately, it was painfully obvious that Master Kohga had never really interacted with a vai before. What were all the vai of the Yiga Clan thinking letting him go like that? Then again, maybe they were letting him go like that intentionally because even they understood and respected the Gerudo’s limits. For Yiga voe, Gerudo Town was quite a lot more trouble than it was worth, and for vai, it was a bit of a ceasefire zone that they either respected or simply avoided. But that didn’t stop Master Kohga from trying.

The Yiga were so-called masters of disguise. And while it’s true their appearances would deceive most ordinary folks, after generations of skirmishing with them, the Gerudo were highly skilled at picking them out. This was a method that relied not so much on physical appearance--although there were several patterns that could identify a Yiga--but rather on checking for cues in their behavior. 

This method--scanning for body language and intention rather than physical characteristics--perhaps is also what made them so good at weeding out sneaky voe. For there were plenty of vai without hips, breasts, or rock-hard abs--making physical barometers obsolete--but it was really quite clear to tell when someone was entering the town who wasn’t supposed to be. In fact, you could almost smell them from almost a mile away. Sometimes, quite literally. 

A voe trying to get into the city just carried this certain _air_ about him, knowing very well he wasn’t supposed to be there, and it invaded his expressions, his inflections, the looks he gave to others, and the walks he made around town. Nobody with a clear conscience acted quite the way a voe did when he thought he was being clever, and any vai with two wits about her could sniff them out. Any voe who _did_ manage to get by the front guards would easily be discovered by another vai in no time. And that said nothing for the one very special voe who once tried to get in the city hiding under a barrel, bless his heart.

But Kohga’s disguises were so bad it was almost insulting. The first few times, he forgot to change his earrings, which let them on immediately. Another time some fruit fell out of his bra. He’d stuffed them with bananas rather than apples--the usual go-to for voe disguises--and promptly picked them up and began eating until he realized his mistake. They almost felt bad throwing him out mid-snack. But not too bad.

The most embarrassing thing of it all was also somehow the most admirable. Despite being perfectly capable of disguising himself using the ancient techniques he was supposedly master of, he was absolutely bullheaded on doing it “the old-fashioned way.” Face veil, crop top, lace, mascara, eyeliner. Sometimes lipstick and nails for good measure. Over time, it seemed like he’d picked up a few new accessories and got better at doing his makeup, and he was alternating his outfits regularly. He was committed to the act, at least. But the Gerudo were getting tired of throwing him out and begged Lady Urbosa to do something about it.

So, after carefully thinking on her next move, she made a proclamation and gathered the city vai together in the square to issue her decree. She stood well above the others from her balcony in the chieftain home, and the other vai in the square gathered around, waiting anxiously to hear Lady Urbosa’s speech.

Once all were gathered, her guards blew their horns and banged their spears down to get everyone’s attention. Lady Urbosa stepped forward to address them.

“I’m going to let Kohga in the city,” she said, definitively.

The vai looked around to each other, startled and concerned. Their dissenting voices rose into the desert night. Lady Urbosa had completely lost her mind. The guards banged down their spears again.

“Silence!” they said. “The chief is talking!”

“I know what you’re thinking: why would we knowingly let a voe pass through our gates? Violate our own laws and risk our own safety, especially for the scum like the Yiga? Their leader, no less,” Urbosa said. “But this is not the Master Kohga we knew--the one who was put to death for attempting to assassinate the Queen. This Kohga is a child, and we need to treat him as such.”

The vai looked around to each other, but quietly this time.

“I’ve heard reports say that this child is no older than sixteen. Imagine the way you were when you were sixteen. You probably needed someone to give you a good knock upside the head, but rarely is that the answer,” she continued. “We need this Kohga to learn from his own mistakes. And the only way to do that is by humoring him. He won’t give in until he gets what he wants, but once he gets just that, we’ll live to make him regret it.”

Lady Urbosa paused, reading her people’s varied expressions. They ranged anywhere from incredulous to downright confused. Some of them, very anxious. She made her way closer to them, hoping to reassure them and relieve some of the tension.

“If ever he becomes aggressive, and belligerent, then we show him what we’re worth. But at least until he turns eighteen, I refuse to meet him with the full extent of our might. This is not yet a Kohga who poses any threat. And, in fact, by cutting this off early, we may be saving ourselves a lot of headache down the line.”

More were quiet, but not necessarily relieved.

“Any vai who objects to this plan can close her doors for the evening. I’m not asking you to welcome him with open arms. But Kohga needs to know we aren’t to be trifled with, and, unfortunately, I think the only way to do that will be by getting him inside,” she said. “If Kohga really wants to get into Gerudo Town that badly, we’ll show him what being a vai is all about.” 

With this, she gave a bit of a kick of her hips and a smile, almost a wink, and then raised her scimitar to the sky, like she would when they were going into war. “Tomorrow, we’ll make preparations, and eagerly await our guest. Then we’ll be sure to show him all the best of what Gerudo Town has to offer.”

Some Gerudo cheered and raised their own weapons in this odd sort of battle cry, but others simply shrugged and huffed off to sleep. That was alright. She wasn’t expecting everyone to be on board, but she thought she had enough vai to make this work. In the morning, shopkeepers prepared their stock--locking away all their most precious valuables just to be safe--and the town pooled together as many Mighty Bananas as they could. Urbosa had a few ideas herself that would most certainly give him a run for his money. She let her closest guards in on the plan, and they warned others in the town of what was to occur.

And then, at last, the guards spotted a familiar face coming up over the horizon. Lacey pink crop top, purple sirwal, slightly pudgy figure with lanky arms and legs very indicative of a teenager hitting his growth spurt. All the Yiga were athletic, and he was still a teen with a raging metabolism, but as his new job was now Kohga--rather than assassin--he was trying his damndest to put on weight as fast as possible, to mixed results. He was carrying what looked like a tambourine strapped to his hip--which the guards knew was actually his chosen weapon, a demon carver--as well as another bag full of his midday snacks. They stopped him at the gate when they saw him.

“Halt, vai,” one of the guards said. “What is your business in Gerudo Town?”

“Why, me?” Kohga asked, in a poorly-exaggerated feminine tone. “I’m just here to see the sights.”

“A Sheikah vai traveling alone?” the other asked. Kohga nodded. “Where from?”

“Uhh--Kakariko Village.”

“That’s quite a long ways from here.”

Kohga paused, but remembered that the Gerudo liked a woman who could pick a fight. He leaned back and crossed his arms in a self-satisfied swagger. “I can hold my own.”

“That’s what we like to hear. A vai who can stand up for herself,” the first guard said, giving Kohga a friendly slap on the back which promptly knocked him off balance. “Alright, vai. Go on in.”

Kohga widened his eyes and tried not to shriek from both excitement in disbelief. He blurted out a broken _“Sarkso!!”_ almost slipping into his male tone in a pathetic attempt to say _‘Sarqso,’_ and scurried on through the gate. The guards nodded to the spies who had been watching from the distance. Their very unwelcome guest had arrived.

It wasn’t long until everyone in the city realized who had come. Kohga exhibited all the obvious traits of a “sneaky voe,” exaggerated to the ninth degree. He wandered around the town in a stupor, feeling a bit lost and quite short among the Gerudo that surrounded him. He stared up at a palm tree for a bit too long, drifted by a few of the stalls at the market, but left mostly disappointed there weren’t any bananas for sale. It was quite obvious he had never really thought he’d get this far, and now that he was in, he had no idea of what to do. The only plus side was that he didn’t seem to be there to hit on any women, like many other voe. Or, if he was, it wasn’t his primary goal.

News of Kohga’s arrival quickly made its way to Urbosa, who decided it was high time to execute the plan. Perhaps it would give the wandering Kohga something to do. She walked out onto her balcony and horns blared out.

“Sav’aaq, vai!” she declared, loudly--putting on as much of the airs of a Gerudo Chieftan as she could to command Kohga’s short attention span. “It is time to announce the beginning of the first annual Miss Vai Battle Pageant! All the vai in Gerudo Town are welcome to battle and test their might, and win the coveted title of Miss Vai!”

The people of the town looked up to her, and then to each other, but a little bit less confused now, as they at least had been warned. Kohga was interested--mostly because he’d never seen Urbosa up so close--but kept his head down, still trying to stay under the radar.

“While the glory won in combat is often prize enough, we thought the least we could do is offer something to make it a little more enticing for you,” she said. At this, she waved her arms out at the gates and ushered her guards in. “Vai!”

At her cue, the guards came in, rolling with them a large wagon with a chest full of rupees, and another one filled to the brim with Mighty Bananas. Kohga’s eyes widened. His mouth watered. Now he was interested.

“Any vai is welcome to compete—Gerudo or not. We invite all vai to come test their mettle, but, be warned: the trials of Miss Vai will require someone of supreme wit, supreme intelligence, and, most of all, supreme might,” Urbosa said. “And, because this is the first ever battle pageant, some might even say that the winner of this competition would be doing something that has never been done before. Something that only the most legendary, most mythical, and mightiest of all the vai would do. In other words, she will have done the stuff of legends, and will be remembered for all time.”

Now she was talking. Kohga eyed the cart up and down. It’s true he could try to steal it, but now with the chance to fight for glory, to become something of _legend_ … Master Kohga just didn’t think he could refuse.

“All vai interested in competing should come speak with one of the guards. Festivities begin this afternoon! Battle well, ladies, and may the best vai win.”

With this, Urbosa turned to leave and chatter rose from the crowd again. Kohga looked this way and that as the guards rolled the carts away with them, and watched sadly as they disappeared. The Gerudo slowly dispersed, but Kohga still found himself standing dumbfounded in the square.

“Hey, vai,” one of the guards said, seeing Kohga in his stupor. “You said you’re a Sheikah all the way from Kakariko Village, right?”

“Oh, um, of course,” Kohga said, recovering.

“You should compete. The Sheikah are proud warriors themselves, aren’t they?” she asked.

“Well of course! But they’re nothing compared to the ancient, otherworldly, and mystical techniques of the--” shit. He stopped. “...Gerudo.”

The woman laughed. “Oh no need to flatter us, vai. We know how strong we are,” she said. “But I’m sure a good Sheikah could put up quite a fight.”

“You better believe it!” Kohga said, puffing out his chest and pumping himself up for the battle. “In fact, I think I’ll go sign up right now!”

“Oh not like that you’re not,” the guard said. Kohga stopped. He looked back to her, frightened, thinking for a moment that his cover had been blown. But then, in another moment, she had not acted like she knew. She looked at him in amusement. “Do you even have any armor?” she asked.

Kohga looked around, up, and down. To his girly sandals, to the rings on his fingers, his painted nails and hairpieces. Lacey veil, lacey top. Nothing here that would exactly spell good news in a fight. “Oh. Um… no,” he said, quietly.

“Or a weapon?”

Kohga’s eyes fell down to the hastily-disguised blade at his hip. The demon carver would be a dead giveaway. “I’m uh… more a fan of hand to hand combat myself.”

“Well that simply won’t do at all. Let’s get you settled with some proper armor and a good weapon,” the guard said, leading him away. As they started to walk toward the guards’ quarters, she asked. “What’s your name, vai?”

Kohga hesitated. He didn’t think this far ahead. He hadn’t even thought he’d get this far at all. “Uh. It’s Kohhh...la,” he said. “Kohla. My name is Kohla.”

The woman let out another laugh. “Well, alright _Kohla._ My name is Leimara. Let’s go get you settled.”

Leimara led Kohga--now known as the lovely and talented Sheikah vai, Kohla--to the courtyard where the Gerudo guard spent most of their time training. They managed to find him a nice pair of greaves--the kind that were used for small Gerudo much younger than him--and the armbands and breastplate to match. Kohga was not used to being weighed down by that much armor. Sheikah material was flexible and breathable, not rock-solid and golden like the Gerudo set he now wore. And he thought for sure they’d make a remark about his lack of mammaries, but the Gerudo made no such remarks, for they knew that breasts or lack of breasts did not make or break the vai. That, however, didn’t stop them from wanting to tease.

“You have such a voe-ish figure,” one of them said. The others laughed. “Must make you very strong among the Sheikah tribe.”

“Oh, believe me. I’m the toughest gu-- _vai--_ around,” Kohga said, thankful he’d stopped himself before another slip.

“You should have no problem fighting in these then,” another said, retrieving a traditional pair of Gerudo heels that were just his size. Kohga gulped. The Gerudo women managed to wrangle him into the heels, at which point Kohga stood and wobbled in a way he never had wobbled before. This was worse than trying to balance on the giant Sheikah Ball, which he admittedly wasn’t even good at yet. At least there weren’t any metal spikes around. 

Kohga took a few clunky steps forward, stumbling from one foot to the next, frustrated at the sheer lack of movement. Heels were so _stiff_ and restrictive. Yiga armor had gotten him used to being able to balance by feeling the whole of his foot against the earth. Now, not so much. And just when he thought he’d gotten the hang of hit, his ankles gave out from under him.

“You all fight like this?!” he exclaimed, barely managing to hang on. He was so focused on keeping his balance that he hadn’t even realized he’d broken into his male voice again.

“No, of course not,” Leimara said. “We also wield claymores.”

One of the guards passed him a golden claymore, not so much handing it off as she did shove it to him. Kohga managed to take hold of the claymore as he stood there in the heels and struggled to keep hold of the enormous weapon while his knees wobbled much like a newborn deer.

“Come on, vai,” one of the Gerudo said, raising her sword to him. “Take a swing at me.”

Kohga swallowed nervously, feeling the weapon that was much too heavy for him in his hands. This wasn’t even a regular claymore--it was a _Gerudo_ claymore. If he wasn’t careful, he’d go flying along with the weapon as soon as he took a swing. That was, assuming he could even lift it. 

The Yiga were not suited for this kind of combat. Their weapons were light, they were trained to be agile. But he knew he couldn’t chicken out now. He mustered all his strength, raising the weapon just barely off the ground as best he could and threw a hearty swing at the guard. It brushed across her shield and she parried it effortlessly, knocking him back. He managed to stumble enough to keep his balance. The guard raised her sword again.

“Don’t go so easy now, you hit like a voe,” she taunted. “Put a little more strength into it.”

Kohga furrowed his brow. It shouldn’t be this hard to get a hit on a woman. He was a master of ancient Sheikah combat! He hadn’t won the title of Kohga for nothing. He dug his newly-heightened heels into the ground, took a deep breath, raised the weapon, and swung at the captain with all his might.

He promptly went flying across the room.

He crashed into some nearby crates, the claymore clattering to the floor beside him. The guards turned to each other and laughed. “That’s alright, vai. You gave it your best,” they said. “Let’s get you a weapon a little more your size.”

The guards managed to find a little scimitar that was much more suited to him, but he denied the offer of using a shield. He’d never used a shield in his life. A scimitar wasn’t exactly his weapon of choice, but it was much lighter, and sickle-shaped enough, so he definitely thought he’d be able to handle it. With all that accomplished, he knew he was ready to partake in the first-ever Miss Vai Battle Pageant.

Except, he wasn’t.

The guards were insistent no self-respecting vai would ride into battle without prettying herself up first. Battle was a glorious occasion, and a true warrior had to pull out all the stops. They led Kohga into the local spa and salon, where he turned pale with horror when he realized they were going to make him take off his veil. He was suddenly so relieved that he’d remembered to shave before this. But, much to his surprise, none of the women said anything as they lifted the veil and began applying some makeup removal cream.

They remarked again about his boyish features, and Kohga was a bit nervous not only for being a voe, but also because no one except the Yiga had ever seen his face. To be honest, he felt a bit naked and exposed there. But the Gerudo did not seem to mind at all, and, once he relaxed a bit, he actually quite enjoyed the facial masks, the exfoliation, the cucumbers on his eyelids, and the aromatherapy. They even let him snack on a banana while he waited for the mask to dry. That was, he _was_ enjoying his time there, until they got to the eyebrow waxing.

“The--what,” Kohga asked, nervously, as one of the Gerudo brought forward a small jar with hot wax. She dipped a stick in to prepare the mixture.

“Eyebrow wax,” she said. “You’ve never done it before? It’s a must for fashion these days. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

Kohga gulped. “Um. No…”

“Well, don’t worry. It’s not too painful. We’ll just touch you up a bit.”

Without wanting to protest too much, Kohga let the women lean him back and spread the wax across his brows. It hardened, and, in another instant, Kohga braced himself as the woman peeled back a corner of the wax and ripped it off quickly. It burned.

 _“OW!!_ ” Kohga yelled, in his male voice again. “GOD _DAMN-_ IT!!”

The other vai in the shop laughed. Tears were welling in his eyes. He begged them to stop.

“Come on vai, just one more. They’ve got to match,” the Gerudo said. She applied the wax and ripped again. It hurt just as bad, but he didn’t scream this time. While Kohga caught his breath, she stepped back and admired her handiwork. “Hm,” she said, noting a small patch of hair above Kohga’s lip, another under his chin. “Looks like you’ve got a little stubble there.”

Shit. Kohga’s stomach dropped. He went pale. “Uh--”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, plenty of vai have facial hair,” she said. “Just hold still.” Before Kohga could object, she was applying wax to the rest of his face. Then his arms. And his legs. And his armpits. By the time they were done, his entire body burned. It had never burned like that before in his life. He didn’t know what part of this was supposed to make him feel beautiful, but then he touched his legs. And, although they were raw, once they settled a bit, he couldn’t stop rubbing them together. They were _so smooth_.

Now all dolled up, and with a new set of war paint on--winged mascara--Kohga, as the pretty Sheikah warrior, Kohla, was finally ready to compete in the Miss Vai Batte Pageant.

Kohga figured that the Battle Pageant would be a simple one-on-one style tournament. But oh, how wrong he was. That was only part one. Then there were the sand seal races. And Master Kohga’s shield--a measly pot lid he found sitting outside someone else’s house--broke within the first ten seconds of the race, leaving his seal to drag him around face-first across the rest of the sand. And then there was… a molduga portion.

The final act of the competition involved a race to the icehouse and back. To prepare for the celebration after the day’s activities, each competing vai was to bring back a block of ice through an obstacle course. Getting there wasn’t the problem. It was the getting back without the ice cube melting, or running out of breath, or slipping, or being zapped by lizalfos that was the problem. Master Kohga did a little bit of all of them, but did eventually manage to claw his way back into town with a measly little ice cube, sweating profusely and out of breath completely. At least the ice cube had kept him kind of cool. Even if he couldn’t feel his hands anymore.

Lady Urbosa watched the day’s events from afar, slowly monitoring him as Kohga became more and more demoralized, picking up more and more battle scars, and getting his shit kicked in by the Gerudo one too many times. But still, impressively, he refused to give in. And so, when Kohga managed to crawl all the way back from the icehouse, sliding the ice cube into town and falling face-first onto the ground, she decided it was high time to issue her final judgments to the top contenders. All the competing vai lined up in front of her, and she selected two others who had fought the best and played along. Then, she drew her shield, raised her scimitar, and pointed it directly at Master Kohga.

“You, vai,” Urbosa said. “I challenge you to a duel.”

Kohga nearly peed himself.

“Winner takes the title of Miss Vai.”

“Oh--um… Um. Of course,” Kohga said, meekly. The other vai looked around and smiled. By now, everyone was in on the scheme. They cleared out of the square and took to the sidelines to watch. This would be good.

Kohga stood there, trembling, but with as much mettle as he could. She was much larger, and far more experienced than him. He’d heard rumors of her, seen her from the distance, and knew she had the power to call lightning from her very hands. That was daunting. Terrifying, even. And she was the chief of the _Gerudo_ , of all people--highly trained and highly skilled warriors of the sands.

But wait, that was a bunch of phooey! He didn’t need to be afraid of her. He was a highly trained and highly skilled warrior as well! He was the stupendous chief of the Yiga Clan, Master Kohga! Top Banana! Inverted eye! Best guy and all that shit! Even in heels and lacking armpit hair, he’d made it through all these trials and more. He was the chosen master of lost, ancient Sheikah arts that even regular Sheikah today had long lost hold of. There was no way he could lose. Kohga sank in his heels and drew his blade.

Urbosa came flying toward him.

Without a shield to parry with, Kohga had to rely on his old acrobatics. But those were much harder to pull off in heels. He stumbled and stuttered, still managing to miss her strikes, but could feel the hair rising on his neck as electric energy sparked from her blade. Yikes.

He was almost having trouble keeping up with her--the way she circled and twisted, nearly danced around him--but he was still spry enough from his footsoldier days to at least match her. But she was going easy on him. Their blades made contact and he pushed her off. With the opening, he jumped back--a bit too acrobatically--and slammed down hard and unbalanced in the heels, at least managing not to faceplant.

This called for some heavier guns.

Forgetting for a moment that he was still in a veil and sirwal--not to mention a young man in the middle of Gerudo Town--Kohga sheathed the weapon at his side, raised his arms, and began to summon a ring of Sheikah symbols. Now she would pay. But just as the red energy began to gather around him, Kohga suddenly realized where he was. He took his arms down and cut out quickly, praying no smoke or tags had made their way around him.

In the opening, however, Urbosa bolted toward him in full swing. She was relentless. And Kohga took his blade out again, just following and pushing back her attacks, that was until they brushed a little too close, and she managed to take hold of him, pressing her fingertips against his shoulder. Her blade was sheathed. She raised her arm, her fingers curling into a snap…

Kohga knew what that meant.

“UNCLE! UNCLE,” he shrieked. His voice cracked. 

Urbosa smiled. She slackened her hold on him, stepped back, and pointed her scimitar again. “Well fought, vai,” she said. “But you’re giving in that easy?”

“Yes. I am. Absolutely,” Kohga said, breathless. He cowered under her, scrunching his shoulders together and wincing. _“PleaseDontZapMe…”_

“Well, alright,” Urbosa said with a laugh. She looked around the others and walked around the arena with fanfare. “So here’s a vai who knows how to admit defeat. That’s wise, for I wouldn’t have gone easy on you.” She gave him a wink. “Still, you performed well today, so the least we can offer you is a bit of a consolation prize.”

Urbosa waved over to the guards, and they brought him a small basket with a couple bananas and a whole 10 rupees in it. Kohga sighed, wishing he could have gotten the crate, but it was far better than being electrocuted.

“Well, alright, vai. With all that said, I think that concludes our first-ever Miss Vai Battle Pageant,” Urbosa said. “Let’s give all of our contestants a big round of applause. I think it’s about time for a celebration!”

The Gerudo were relieved that they could now drink to forget the day’s events, even if they had to drink with Master Kohga. He was looking beaten, and exhausted, but even they hadn’t broken his spirits enough to prevent him from partying. The Yiga were never too broken to party.

And what would be a Gerudo party without a little Noble Pursuit? And now, with all the ice the contestants brought in, there was plenty to go around. If he was being honest, Master Kohga wasn’t really one for beer or whiskey. He only drank it to be manly in front of the other men. But now, looking the colorful drink up and down--in the absence of any manly men that he would have to man up to--it was beginning to look right up his alley. The Gerudo saw him eyeing the beverage and offered to pour him some.

But as he started to lift the glass to his lips, the drink seared his throat. He lurched forward. It was _strong_. Full of gin. Lots of gin. While it was sweet at the beginning, it left lots of sour, and his mouth burned, his lips puckered, and he wanted water, badly. But the rest of the girls were sipping it gleefully, as if it was the most cooling, refreshing thing in the desert. The juice, if anything, was certainly making him begin to respect women. But now he certainly wasn’t going to lose his womanhood. So he put on his big lady pants and drank the Pursuit, closing his eyes and pretending instead it was a nice banana smoothie, and he had to admit, by the end of it, it wasn’t that bad. Or maybe he was just getting too tipsy to care.

There was drinking, there was dancing, there was karaoke. In fact, Kohga was starting to think that karaoke night wouldn’t be half a bad idea to enact in the Yiga Clan. The vai continued to joke about his voe-ish figure--“Kohla” really was quite the tomboy--and by his second drink, Kohga was really starting to open up to them. Urbosa noticed as he sat on top of a counter, near crying into the arms of the other vai as she heard him saying,

_“Look, I just don’t know, girls. There’s this boy I like. But he has no idea. No idea that I like him. No matter what I do, no matter how many signals I give him, how much I try to talk to him, and I have no idea what to do about it--”_

Urbosa couldn’t help but laugh. She wondered if one of them would suggest Kohga take the “Voe and You” class offered every spring. She wondered if he’d consider doing it.

The Pursuit was starting to make his tummy ache, and so Master Kohga snuck outside for a banana break. Bananas always helped him feel better. He climbed up above the walls of the city and sat down, looking out over the cool desert night. In the meantime, the alcohol was keeping him warm, but it wouldn’t be forever.

Urbosa had followed him out, and she found him sitting there, swinging his legs off the edge and humming to himself. He straightened up, hoping he hadn’t been discovered.

“Well done, Kohga,” she said, taking a seat next to him.

Kohga’s eyes widened. He was still mid-bite, which he shifted to his cheeks to be able to speak. He raised a hand to cover his mouth to keep any stray food from wandering away. “Koh--Kohla. You mean Kohla right??”

Urbosa shook her head. “No.”

“No…?”

“No.”

There was a silence. Kohga was too uncomfortable to eat the banana anymore. He picked at the strings and flicked them off the edge. Swinging his legs awkwardly, sadly. Urbosa waited for him to say something, with patience like a mother to a spoiled child, but still, after awhile, he did not reply.

“Are you going to admit to being a voe now?”

“You caught me…” Kohga said, finally. He hung his head low, embarrassed.

“And how did you enjoy being vai for a day?”

“It kinda sucked,” Kohga said, dejectedly. “It’s way too hot out here. And then it’s way too cold. I had to carry a big ice cube in the sand and I got bodychecked by a molduga. I got my eyebrows waxed. And then my feet hurt and my tummy hurt and I was hungry and everyone was mean to me.”

Urbosa laughed. “Well, that last part might not always be the case.”

“You ladies are tough,” Kohga said. He sighed, resting his chin in his hands. “It’s much more exercise than I was able to put up with. I’m getting out of shape.”

“I know,” Urbosa said. “You did horribly.”

Kohga pouted some more. He didn’t necessarily want that to be true. He wanted to have done a good job, but he knew he’d done a particularly bad one.

“But it’s alright, you put up a fight,” Urbosa said, trying to cheer the young boy up one last time. “I just hope you’ve learned not to mess with us. We saw through your disguise from the beginning.”

“You did…?”

“You come by every day.”

Oh. 

“It was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?” Kohga said, almost with a laugh.

“Painfully obvious,” Urbosa said. There was a pause. “But, I admire your spunk. It takes a lot to square up against the Gerudo like that. Even if you’re fighting a losing match.”

Kohga considered this. He really had gotten his ass handed to him today, hadn’t he? “Eeeyeeeeaaaaahhhhh….”

“We figured the only way for you to learn your lesson was by getting you on the inside, like you always wanted,” she said. “From there, we’d make you pay for it.” 

There was another pause. His rump hurt. Master Kohga definitely thought he was paying for it. 

“So how are you feeling, Miss Vai?” Urbosa asked. “Did we give you a run for your money?”

“You uh…” Kohga stopped. That was certainly one way to put it. “I did a lot of running,” he admitted. But there had to be some better way to explain himself. “The Yiga aren’t built for those kinda sports.”

“Of course not.”

“But don’t think that doesn’t mean we aren’t highly-trained assassins!” he said. He would have stood and stamped his feet, but he was drunk, and they were still dangling off the ledge. Urbosa raised an eyebrow. He shrank. “We just… we can’t do long distance,” he said, less confidently. “We work best in tiny spurts.”

“I know,” Urbosa said. She studied him and knew that Kohga was defeated. But she also knew in order to make the lesson stick, she was going to have to walk him through this slowly. “So the Gerudo can outpace you in the long haul, do you see that now?”

“Yeaahh…”

“We’ve been fighting the Yiga for centuries, and it always ends the same,” she said. “Even if you do manage to infiltrate the city, we fend you off and send you home running. Even if you manage to kidnap one of our vai, we always get her back.”

Kohga looked up to her in something that almost resembled agreement.

“Other Kohgas have started to learn it’s simply not worth the effort. But you haven’t done all your learning yet,” Urbosa said.

“I’m sixteen.”

“I know.”

A thoughtful silence fell between the two of them as they looked out over the sleeping desert, listening to the quiet buzz of the insects and the muffled racket of the party below. Urbosa looked back to him. “Are you satisfied you got into Gerudo Town?”

“Kinda a little bit, but it’s not all it's cracked up to be,” Kohga admitted. “It seemed different in my head.”

“It always does.”

He paused, considering this. He didn’t have a better way to phrase it. “Are you mad at me?”

“Of course,” Urbosa said. “Your people have waged war against mine for centuries, and you went out of your way for weeks now trying to personally infiltrate our city. You’ve disrespected my people and you’ve disrespected our way of life. Dressing up like a vai to get into the city is a cheap party trick we see all the time. You would have been better off using the Yiga’s regular disguise.”

Kohga hung his head low and sighed.

“Still, I can’t help think about the fact that you’re only sixteen, and the night raids have all but disappeared since you’ve become chief,” she said. Kohga looked up to her, hopefully.

“I think they’re cheap.”

“I know,” Urbosa said. “But you’ve been stupid enough to try them in broad daylight.”

Kohga thought about this for a moment. It was kind of stupid, he guessed. “Yeaaahh...” he said.

“You’re young,” Urbosa said. “You have a lot to learn. We’ve gone easy on you because of that. But once you’re older, and you decide to get serious, I won’t hold back.” She turned to him, making sure to look him directly in the eye so her last message rang loud and true. He seemed like he got the memo. She smiled. “In the meantime, you’re not half bad. For a voe,” she said, giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder. It was a bit too rough, but they both laughed.

“Psshh thanks chief,” Kohga said, rubbing at the spot. “I guess you’re pretty alright too, for a girl.”

Urbosa frowned. She stopped, considered not doing it, but then reached her hand toward him. It was then Kohga realized that he’d fucked up. Her fingertips made contact with his shoulder blade. A crack of thunder rang out over Gerudo Town.

Master Kohga smelled a little crispy the rest of the week.


	13. The Hot Spring Episode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of these stories are based on my playthrough of Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity. this is one such story.
> 
> takemetotheastral and i discussed this frequently and i really cannot get it out of my mind. what was he doing there. why.

Astor had done a lot of work recently wrangling the Blights, boiling eggs, and resurrecting Calamity Ganon, and so he decided to take a well-deserved break. It’d help get him away from the eternal torment of the Yiga Clan as well.

So Astor took himself and his five malice-children to the Eldin region, where he’d heard there were wonderful hot springs and scenic volcanic landscapes. Lava and mountains were not really his thing, and  _ Gorons _ especially were not, so he took care to avoid the city. But still, he felt like nothing but a long, relaxing dip in a hot spring could warm his cold, dead soul. He made his Hollows keep watch outside the springs, ensuring that no one else could have access to them the entire time he was there, because he loved to discriminate against everyone equally.

Everything was going well at the hot springs--Astor, refusing to be naked, simply bathed in his entire cloak--until he heard a faint rumbling sound in the distance. It grew louder and louder. The ground beneath him shook.

Daruk, who happened to hear news of the prophet’s arrival, made a bet with Link that he could get through all the Hollows and Astor in seven minutes or less. He steamrolled through all the malice-children, using Daruk’s Protection as a wall of impenetrable force and killing them instantly, then slammed directly into Astor, sending him flying off the side of the cliff.

Daruk and Link high-fived, then celebrated with a delicious rock roast. That’d show him for bringing his ugly rat face out in public.


	14. Yiga Clan Karaoke Night 2: A Total Eclipse of Kohga's Heart

It was another horrible Thursday night.

Astor had already suffered through several hours of nonstop pop music and everyone wanting to be the next Hyrule Idol. They were now to the moody pop rock and power ballad portion of the evening. Sad and dramatic notes of the piano began to ring out in the Yiga Clan hideout. Against this will, Astor heard a soft male voice begin singing,  _ “Turn around… _ ”

Astor realized the voice was actually the voice of Sooga. Which only meant…

_ “Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ‘round-- _ ”

That was Kohga.

Astor buried his face deeper in his pillow, still hoping that if his helpless and desperate pleas would no longer reach the heavens, nor could not even be shunned by hell, they could at least drown out the sound of their weepy, irritating voices. That was impossible, however, when Kohga and the rest of the Yiga Clan broke out in the chorus,

_ “And I need you now tonight--And I need you more than ever! And if you only hold me tight--we’ll be holding on forever!!” _

Astor groaned. Looked he was going to listen to Bonnie Tyler against his will. 

If only one, singular piece of ancient Sheikah technology the Yiga had managed to hold onto, it was a mysterious slab they hadn’t even figured out how to work until recently, despite having had it for generations. It glowed a mysterious many colors--not simply orange or blue--and had large dials on it that they discovered could adjust their frequency to different timelines and even into different universes. It could bring voices and sounds from other worlds and realities, playing music without the need for traditional instruments. They called this mysterious artifact the Completely Regular, Everyday Jukebox. God knows why.

They had the Jukebox, of course, but they couldn’t have had anything useful or all-powerful like one of the Divine Beasts or anything. Just the Jukebox. The Completely Regular, Everyday Jukebox. 

And it was  _ loud _ .

Astor could hear it almost perfectly, even from his room nearly on the other side of the hideout--even as he had attempted to reinforce it with soundproof material--and so he could hear very clearly as the music began to rise and Kohga’s wretched, screechy voice overexerted itself when he got to the point where he emphasized,  _ “I don’t know what to do and I’m always in the dark--we’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks--” _

The rest of the Yiga Clan broke out with him.  _ “I REALLY NEED YOU TONIGHT. _ ”

Despite how he objectively hated it, Astor did at least have to admit that all the raw, unhinged feeling Kohga put behind the lyrics did make him sound surprisingly similar to the screeching woman in the song. Both of them sounded like they thought that if they just screamed loud enough, maybe their loves would finally recognize them.

After enough screeching, the music slowed, and quieted down, and against his will and through his third eye, Astor saw Kohga on the table again, now kneeling down, looking Sooga in the eyes and cradling his jaw, singing, tenderly,

_ “Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I’m only falling apart. Nothing I can say. A total eclipse of the heart _ .”

The Yiga Clan erupted into cries and tears. Astor put his head under his pillow, wondering if there was a way he could smother himself with it. But even that, he knew, was no use.

When, dear god, would Calamity Ganon return?


	15. What the King Didn't Say

There were a lot of things King Rhoam could have said the day he banished Astor from the Castle. Some of them split off and fragmented themselves into other universes.

In one such universe, Rhoam at first said nothing. He stopped and considered his words very carefully. But then he picked up his claymore and swung it over his shoulder, told Astor to pack his bags, and looked him dead in the eyes and said, simply, “You have 48 hours until I hunt you for sport.”

Astor got the message loud and clear.


	16. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> getting a good grade in yiga clan is something both totally normal to want and possible to achieve

Being Kohga was the most important job in the entire Yiga Clan.

Not only was Kohga the chief, and thus responsible for all things in chiefly-manner, but the title of Kohga itself was something of a good-luck omen for the rest of the clan. You see, for centuries--millennia, even--the title of Kohga was passed down from one worthy contender to the next. When one Kohga would die, the Yiga would hold a contest to determine the wit, skill, charisma and charm--and, most importantly, banana-eating capacity--of eligible men in the tribe. The winner, of course, became Kohga.

It was critical that the reigning Kohga have the largest potential for napping and snacking and general Kohga-ing as possible, because the happier, lazier, and more well cared-for the reigning Kohga was, the greater fortune would befall the rest of the Yiga Clan. This was, in fact, part of an ancient tradition preserved by the Yiga that was long lost to the bootlicking traitor portion of the _other_ Sheikah tribe. Or, that was at least how it was told to them by their mother’s uncle’s relative’s daughter’s ancestors.

Whether truly an ancient tradition or not, it was tradition enough now, and so the Yiga nonetheless projected all of their sloth, gluttony, clownery, and other general vices onto the Kohga the way they had for centuries. By letting all their foolishness accumulate and be absorbed by the Kohga--and keeping Kohga alive, happy, slothful, and well--the Yiga could keep that abundant energy among the tribe while also being able to devote more time to darker and more serious arts such as lurking, killing, ambushing, and assassinating.

The Kohga, therefore, was somewhere between a person and a sacred artifact. And if the Yiga wanted to continue to be happy, lucky, and successful masters of their arts, they had to attend to their Kohga so that their Kohga, in turn, could master his own arts like napping, banana-eating and spike-ball summoning--arts that _relied_ on sloth and gluttony to succeed. It was a symbiotic relationship, you see. They brought protection, care, and safety to their Kohga, and their Kohga, by existing, brought them abundance, leadership, good luck, and fortune. Symbiotic, at least, by their best stab at what the word ‘symbiotic’ meant. 

Our Kohga was a young assassin who began footsoldier training as soon as he could hold a sickle. His uncle was Kohga before him, and he had a couple older brothers who worked closely with the Kohga as blademasters. Yiga footsoldiers were notorious for being a rather competitive, ambitious, and show-offy bunch, but young Kohga was determined to be the most competitive, ambitious, and show-offy of all. That’s why he trained rigorously from the minute he learned his uncle had died in order to force himself to win the title of Kohga--even at the cost of his own health and sanity.

He won the championship both for his blade-wielding and Ancient-Sheikah-Arts-Performing, but, primarily, because he had managed to eat more Mighty Bananas than anyone else--even adults far above him--in the shortest amount of time.

No one else knew he spent the rest of that evening throwing up, however, and that he couldn’t even touch a banana for a few days after. To ever admit to _that_ level of failing would be downright heresy.

So it was fate! Young Kohga became the new Kohga, taking over for his late uncle, and began all the very important work and training that went with that. Except, young Kohga was very young. The youngest Kohga that the Yiga Clan had seen in a very long time--perhaps even in forever.

Kohga expected that winning the title of Kohga just meant that he was the most Yiga-y Yiga in the entire Yiga Clan. Essentially, that he had “won” at being Yiga or had gotten a good grade in Yiga-ing--something that was both totally normal to want and possible to obtain--and that he could now spend all day eating and napping and never having to work hard again. And while that second part was true, never working hard was now an _obligation_.

Shortly after Kohga won the title, the concerned elders of Karusa Valley convened and decided that, because he was so young, this Kohga was going to need a little extra guidance to ensure that he could Kohga all well and properly. A day or two later, they approached the new chief with a rough daily schedule and a meal plan. This, they presented with a tray of bananas and other foods he was going to have to eat before taking his midday nap.

While happy to be presented with the snacks and permission to nap, the young Kohga felt a bit slighted that there were now people who were trying to tell him what to do. He grabbed a banana muffin and a few strawberries, but then put the rest of the food aside and pouted.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, through his face full of muffin. “Did _my uncle_ have a schedule and meal plan??”

“Your uncle was a fifty year old man. You are a sixteen year old boy,” one of the elder Yiga said, shoving another bar of chocolate at him. “Eat up.”

At least there were good snacks.

Kohga stuck rigorously to his Kohga training schedule--the way he had formerly stuck rigorously to his footsoldier training schedule--but couldn’t help but limp sadly past the room where the other footsoldiers were doing their drills on his way to his second mid-afternoon nap. He could see the gym mats and training rings and balance beams peeking through the doorway, and desperately yearned for the feeling of vaulting himself high up above his classmates, twisting and soar through the air, spinning, somersaulting, flipping, and then landing on his feet to draw his blade and spar with the others. He was the _best_ at it, and everyone knew it.

Except, not anymore.

Kohga was lurking past footsoldier training the way he did every afternoon--toting his small mountain of rationed snacks along with him--and saw his former classmates carrying on without him. Happily. As if he’d never even existed. But, today, as he was passing, he happened to notice that they had a few even tinier Yiga in the room with them. It looked like they were buddying up--and the big kids were teaching the little ones how to flip.

As he peered in, watching the older students help the Yiga Youngers keep themselves from totally faceplanting onto the mats--holding them steady and helping them through the movements--he saw one of the littlest Yiga suddenly take off, swing arms back, feet over head and back under again--and plant almost flawlessly in a near-perfect back handspring.

Oh no. That reminded him too much of himself. He was getting stir crazy. He had to act.

“Hey nice job,” Kohga said, walking into the room. The class was still recovering from the sight of someone so young pulling off the stunt unprompted, so Kohga’s entrance only added to the general sense of confusion. The child looked excitedly at the strange man with the funny collar--knowing him vaguely to be the Kohga--but Kohga made a beeline for one of the sickles hanging on the wall.

“But next,” he said, pointing it outward, “You’re going to have to learn to do this.”

Everyone knew to stand back as Kohga suddenly sprang forward--tossing a handful of his snacks into the air--bolted up, down, over and up again--flipping twice over his hands while the fruit almost seemed to stop in slow-motion--suspended in midair. The bananas were about halfway down their descent when Kohga landed. He gave a flick of his hair as a flourish, and sent the sickle flying out from him. It pinned the bunch of bananas tightly against the wall without so much as leaving an extra scratch on a single one.

The other Yiga--surprised and winded at the whole exchange--but also not wholly surprised, because this was _Kohga_ they were talking about--gave their leader a firm round of applause. 

“Well done.”

“Glad to see you’ve still got it, Kohga,” one of his old classmates said.

“What can I say? I’m the greatest,” Kohga said, peeling the fruit off the wall. He took the sickle and stabbed it into one of the targets. “And don’t you forget it.”

There was more light applause, and Kohga went meandering back over to his pile of scattered snacks, working on unpeeling one of the bananas he’d just taken off the wall when two other blademasters came scrambling in.

“Master Kohga, thank god we found you.”

By the tone of it, it sounded like something absolutely dire, something utmostly urgent was going on. Kohga and the rest of the class looked on in suspense. Perhaps there had been an attack.

But the blademaster, sweating bullets as he was, looked around to the room and then back to Kohga and said, simply,

“You’re late for your nap.”

Kohga rolled his eyes. The rest of the room took a sigh of relief.

“I was on my _way_ to my nap and I was just showin’ these kids how it’s done,” Kohga said, swiveling and taking a bite of the Mighty Banana in his hand. “Ain’t that right, kiddos?”

“You shouldn’t over-exert yourself,” the second blademaster said.

“I wasn’t over-exerting myself!!” Kohga said. His voice was getting pitchy in a characteristically defensive sort of way. “There wasn’t any exertion at all!! That was the point!!!”

“You need to watch your stress,” a third blademaster said, stepping into the room.

Kohga stopped. He was tall, even for a blademaster, and so he easily loomed over everyone else in the room. Despite his imposing size and even more imposing muscles, his voice was soft, but still a low baritone. He had deep, evening-brown skin--a bit warmer and richer than the sandy beige of Kohga’s own--and it provided this almost mystifying contrast to the white of his hair, fragmented by a few streaks of black that the Yiga were known for dyeing. Not to mention his kind, honey-amber eyes that Kohga could picture himself getting lost in forever.

Wait. He was staring again.

Shit. Kohga didn’t know how wide and doe-eyed his own eyes had gotten before he realized he was gawking--he knew it couldn’t have been longer than a split second or two--as he collected himself while Sooga approached. Even despite the two blades at his hip--and his probable ability to crush a man’s skull between his thighs--Sooga emanated a gentleness that spelled nothing but genuine concern for his leader.

“We’re only looking out for you,” he said. Kohga’s eyes were still wide. Kohga.exe had stopped working. He stared up at Sooga a bit dumbfounded while Sooga came closer, seeing the message hadn’t totally gotten through. He started to move down as if to pick Kohga up to carry him. “You need to watch the stress.”

Kohga finally managed to shake himself out of it. He was trying to prove a point. “I’m not stressed,” he said again, wiggling away from Sooga’s reach. “That wasn’t stressful. In fact, that _relieved_ stress. I feel alive! Better than I’ve ever been!!” With this, he twisted one leg over the other to flip around and deliver a hearty kick to the head of one of the dummy targets. It went flying across the room, hitting the other wall with a dense _thunk_.

“Maybe for a footsoldier, but this is no work for a Kohga,” said one final aged, raspy voice from behind. Kohga’s stomach dropped. Color drained from his face. The other blademasters stepped aside to give the small, wrinkled old woman room to enter. His grandmother. Despite her withering size, she emanated power. And, most of all, fearsomeness. “You could have been hurt,” she said.

Kohga shook his head. “Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Don’t test me, boy,” she said, sharply. “I’ve had many more arguments than you.”

Kohga was slighted by this, at first not sure what to say, but then remembered his position, even despite her age and authority. “I’m the leader,” he said.

“Which is why it’s important you remain unharmed.”

“I could get hurt doing Kohga shit too!!” Kohga exclaimed, in a last desperate attempt to get his way. A few Yiga covered the younger ones’ ears.

“Then go get hurt doing Kohga shit,” she said, flatly. “This isn’t your place anymore.”

That cut deep. This had been his place for as long as he could remember. Kohga felt the knife in his chest and looked around to his former classmates for backup. They all looked at him indecisively, unsure of exactly what he wanted them to do. Kohga’s eyes wavered between them, theirs wavered back, and when Kohga could not find the reassurance he so desperately needed, he turned back around and gave one final, definitive stomp to the ground in protest.

“I was checking in on my army! Isn’t it important I know how they’re doing?”

“You can do that without double back handsprings and kicking heads off dolls,” his grandmother said. Everyone’s eyes fell to the head in the corner. “They’re doing well on their own.”

Kohga hung his head low in defeat. “Yes, GranGran,” Kohga said, quietly. “I’m sorry…”

“Good,” Kohga’s GranGran said. “Now go off to sleep. And don’t forget to finish your third mid-afternoon snacks.”

Kohga sighed and looked around awkwardly. For all the blood he lost earlier when his grandmother had entered, he was feeling pretty red-faced now. To cover for it, he went around gathering the snacks he had thrown so hastily around the room and started shoving them off on another blademaster. “Fine,” he said. “But you should all know that I can do it. And don’t forget that! I can do kicks and cartwheels and aerials and aerial twists and back handsprings and double back handsprings and _triple_ back handsprings and roundoffs and jackknives and masterswipes and _grand masterswipes_ and triple-backhanded _turbo_ masterswipes and most importantly the triple jackhammer double-handed mighty banana aceflip, a move which I invented singlehandedly.”

“Yes, Kohga.”

“I can do all that and more!” Kohga continued, swinging around the room grandly. “I can do everything you put your mind to. I can do everything you can ever _dream_ of putting your mind to. I’m the best!! And no one will ever match me!! I’m the greatest footsoldier assassin there ever was! I aced all my exams and got out to the field early. That’s how great I am.”

“We know, Master Kohga,” the rest of them said.

“Good. And don’t forget it,” Kohga said again. He shoved the last of the bananas at the blademaster and reached up to Sooga. Sooga lifted him up and hung Kohga’s arms across his shoulders, carrying him away like a backpack or a little baby animal. Kohga continued to cry in protest the whole way out.

“I’m still the best! And I always will be!!”

“Yes, Kohga.”

Everyone watched in silence as the group made their leave, older Yiga now comfortable enough to remove their hands from the young ones’ ears. As their eyes followed them out, a few childless members with nothing else to do make the awkward turtle with their hands to emphasize the sheer awkwardness of it all. Kohga got yelled at. And that was trouble.

Sooga carried Kohga back to his favorite spot and set him down. Kohga huffed angrily to the ground even though he settled rather comfortably into the pile of blankets and goodies. Kohga continued to kick and grumble, unwrapping another muffin as he complained to Sooga about his gross mistreatment. He was Kohga! He should be allowed to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants to. If anything was getting his stress up, it was the stress of being told what to do. And Sooga said while objectively that was true, it was better than whatever dangers would befall him if he were to remain a footsoldier. Kohga sighed and rolled begrudgingly to sleep, because he knew Sooga was correct.

The only nice thing about being Kohga--besides everyone to do everything for him and the endless flow of snacks and goodies--was that he still got to do a little training, just not the kind of training he enjoyed. Kohga training was slow and cumbersome, not quick and agile like the footsoldier athletics he was used to. Kohga was still on the first set of training balls--the ones without any spikes--and he was frustrated because he wanted to move on to bigger and grander things. But unless he wanted to end up in a world of pain, it was probably best to start small until he was confident with where he was going.

The barrier sheet was easy. He’d nearly mastered that even before he began training, even if his still was a bit small at the present time. And at least he still got to see his former fellow footsoldiers in Weekly Bottomless-Pit Training. The Yiga hideout had a room with a miniature Bottomless Pit, a scaled-down near-exact replica of the larger one at the end of the base. There, Kohga trained combating imaginary threats they had lured there, commanding his small army of footsoldiers for protection, summoning the spike-balls and barriers and, most importantly, levitating and avoiding falling into the hole _at all costs_. But he trained there all the time, so it was hardly a concern. This pit, at least, _did_ have a bottom. Albeit, somewhere.

However, despite all his training, and napping, and general Kohga-ing, Kohga was still, ultimately, a teenage boy with a raging metabolism, and, despite all the food he went through, hardly any of it stayed on. Kohga was restless, and stir-crazy, and he’d still do sprints and flips around the base when no one was looking. If someone _was_ looking, which was most often Sooga--Sooga or another blademaster would take hold of him, squeeze his arms together, and keep him still while he continued kicking and screaming that he’d been ratted out. Occasionally, when no one else was around, Sooga would let Kohga take a quick run or do a few kicks near the bottomless pit just to get it out of his system--as long as he ate some extra snacks and took a nap after to make up for it. But Kohga was getting so tired of the naps. He mostly faked his way through them.

Despite all this, even when he was the most focused and utmost disciplined at being the least disciplined as possible, Kohga could not keep on weight. And this was a problem for several reasons. The first of which being the traditional belt and the suit did not yet fit him. This would have made sense, given he was young, but he was having trouble growing any amount into it _at all_. To carefully monitor his progress and well-being, the village elders had bi-weekly check ins where they monitored his health and, most importantly, his weight.

Kohga dreaded these weigh-ins. Because he almost always failed them. One time it seemed like he was finally on the up and up only for the progress to disappear a few weeks later. Disheartened at his progress, and frustrated things weren’t moving any faster, Kohga had slowly taken to hiding weights in his clothing. This he did have to be careful about--they removed his shirt to check his heart and breathing--as well as so he couldn’t hide weights there. But, over time, he thought he was getting away with filling small bags with sand--and taking clay forms that he tied and hung discreetly around his calves almost like weird sock garters. 

But he was running out of ways to hide them without making it conspicuous, and every night before a weigh-in, he’d go in secret to check himself--praying to any god who would listen that he had at least made _some_ progress--only to end in disappointment and finding himself tying up weights again for the next day. And he had a sneaking suspicion the elders knew, they just weren’t saying anything. The weigh-ins were a horrible, miserable process, and he once had the idea to show up tipsy to ease the pain, only to find out that being a little bit drunk only made him want to cry more. 

He hated it. He hated this. If anything was causing him stress, it was this, but this was something he knew he couldn’t afford to fail. Especially because his failure and his success had implications for the entire rest of the tribe, which is why the elders were so invested in the first place. It was one of the first things in his life Kohga was simply not good at, and he was utterly, abysmally ashamed of it. 

After another failed and horribly-awkward weigh-in, Kohga slumped back out to the courtyard near the bottomless pit where Sooga was swinging his blades. Sooga had always been supportive of Kohga and his progress--or lack thereof--and always left him with a positive sendoff that this week, things would be different. When Sooga noticed the dejected Kohga enter, he stopped and looked to him with the eager sort of optimism he always met his leader with, not yet seeing the defeat written all over the young Kohga’s face.

“Master Kohga!” he said. “How did it go?”

Kohga sighed, flopped down, and ripped the weights off from under his clothes. He tossed them aside and put his head in his hands without a word. Sooga looked down to the discarded weights and the slumping Kohga and was smart enough to fill in the blanks.

“I’m sorry.”

“They almost caught me again,” Kohga said, keeping his gaze out toward the pit. He couldn’t bear to look at Sooga right now. “They probably already know.”

Sooga thought for a moment about how particularly odd and lumpy Kohga’s calves and ankles looked the days he had his weigh-ins. He had to admit, it wasn’t discreet.

“Yeaaaah…”

“I can’t keep doing this, Sooga,” Kohga said. There was a defeat was spilling into a desperation that trembled in his voice there. “Every time I think it’s gonna get better. That I’ll finally grow out of these damn weights. And then it doesn’t. And then I gotta hide it and wear em and think about how embarrassed I am.”

Sooga nodded in a pensive, understanding silence.

“Everyone’s counting on me,” Kohga said. “The luck of our tribe depends on me. And I keep failing. I’m letting everybody down.” He bit his lip and looked back out to the pit again, up and over to the peaks of snow littering the hills of the Gerudo Highlands and Karusa Valley. There were words that were coming to the tip of his tongue there, but he didn’t know if he had the strength to admit them. But perhaps there would be even graver consequences if he didn’t. 

Kohga closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. He watched a few birds fly up over them, crossing the horizon and landing somewhere over the mountainside. He stared there at the empty sky and otherwise barren peaks. “Maybe I’m not fit to be Kohga,” he said, at last.

Sooga leaned in and approached. “Master Kohga, that’s not true at all,” he said, coming down to him. “You won the title of Kohga fair and square. You ate a record amount of bananas in a record amount of time. You beat everyone out in every single way. No one’s more fit to be Kohga than you.”

“I threw up,” Kohga said, hopelessly.

There was a pause. Kohga, still refusing to make eye contact with Sooga, had not at first realized he’d even said it. He kicked his feet back and forth and looked down, dejectedly. Sooga stood there in a mixture of consternation and empathy.

“...What?” he said.

Now Kohga realized the secret was out. Tears were collecting in his eyes.

“I threw them all up,” he said again. Now, overwhelmed, he knew he couldn’t hide it anymore. He looked up at Sooga with a blurred vision from his welling sinuses, beaten and afraid. Sooga was taken aback for a moment as he saw the teary, reddened eyes of his leader and the trail that was already streaming down his face. He hadn’t realized just how close to breaking over this Master Kohga really was.

“I forced myself to win Kohga because I couldn’t stand losing. I didn’t have the capacity. I spent the rest of the day throwing up. Every last one,” Master Kohga said. He choked and inhaled sharply, his words no longer able to breach through his tears. He caught a breath and reset his pace, even if he would very shortly spin out again. “I couldn’t look at a banana for weeks. If anybody knew… they’d be so ashamed… I’m a disgrace. A big huge fucking disgrace. Being fit to be Kohga is the biggest lie I’ve ever told. I’m not good at it. And I’m failing us all.”

A deep sadness washed across Sooga in the pit of his chest. There was no reason Master Kohga should ever feel like a failure. He wasn’t experienced with comfort, but he was rather empathetic, and his leader needed him. He kneeled down and took a seat next to Kohga as the young chief continued to bawl.

 _“The whole_ _tribe’s gonna fall into ruin and it’s gonna be all my fault because they’ve got a skinny fucking Kohga who keeps wanting to do footsoldier things--who can’t even wear the fucking suit--I can’t even wear the suit--”_ Kohga said. At this, he broke out into a full on sob, thrusting his arms over Sooga who was now in reach. He threw himself over the man violently--almost melodramatically--and buried his face in his chest. “OH GOD SOOGA WHAT HAVE I DONE EVERYBODY’S GONNA DIE BECAUSE OF ME.”

Sooga let Kohga continue to wail as he held him there for awhile, patting him on the head and stroking him at his sides. Kohga had never demonstrated this level of vulnerability before--not to him, not to anybody--and Sooga was at least thankful that Kohga fit so well in his arms. He was able to hold him there while he trembled--keep him still and together and hopefully in a way that was comfortable--but he wasn’t exactly sure, because he’d never had anybody crying in his arms before. But after a few more moments, Kohga began to slow to a calm, and that’s when Sooga, after some more pondering, found the opportunity to say,

“Well, maybe it’s not the suit that makes the Kohga.”

Kohga stopped. He sat up a little bit further, peeling himself away from Sooga and looked up to him. He was in such a state, his brain was fried, and we wasn’t sure he understood. “What?”

“Maybe being Kohga is a state of mind."

Kohga looked up to him, almost smiling, a tiny beam of hope shining through his tear-stained eyes. In the light, Sooga looked radiant and wise. And now, after crying, it was like Kohga was seeing him with new eyes. He felt things. Many things. He wondered if Sooga felt any of them, but Sooga did not seem to react to him that way.

“You won the competition, fair and square,” he said again. “I think what happened afterward is irrelevant. We hold that competition to see who is best-suited for _any_ number of reasons. Not just banana-eating, not just sickle-wielding, not just napping and general Kohga-ing. The best Kohga is the sum of them all.”

Kohga considered this.

“Maybe you were selected to be Kohga because you had what it takes,” Sooga continued. “Because above all, you’d never give in. You were willing to work harder than anybody else and push farther than ever before, even if it meant bad things for you. Even if you weren’t perfect at it. You won because you were willing to keep going, no matter the cost.”

At this point, Kohga’s eyes were wider than a baby doe’s. Most of the tears were dry, but the moisture had given him a nice glimmer that reflected the light. Sooga’s words were genuine, and maybe there was something in them he could take to heart. “You know what Sooga?” he said, straightening up. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Everything else will come along in time,” Sooga assured him. “Maybe you won Kohga because you’ll do everything it takes to get there. The tribe will be okay in the meantime.”

Kohga smiled. Sooga was glad he had at least gotten Kohga feeling better. There was a bit of a silence until Kohga broke it again.

“Well, I still kinda suck currently,” he admitted. “It’s kinda fun, but it’s way different than being an assassin. I gotta change everything about the way I move. And I can hardly balance on that damn ball.”

“Well, it’s alright. Everybody needs practice,” Sooga said. “I’m still trying to get down the triple jackhammer double-handed mighty banana aceflip.” 

Kohga’s face widened as he lifted his eyebrows and his jaw dropped slightly. He hadn’t realized anybody else in the clan was working on it. Especially Sooga, of all people. He did not at first have the breath, and then did not he have the words, but he was thankful it wasn’t lasting too long, and he could already feel himself coming back down to earth. Sooga filled in the amazed silence.

“It’s a very tough move.”

This gave Kohga time enough to recover. “Well, it wasn’t built for big tough-guys like you,” he said, with a laugh. “It was built for little short-guys like me.”

“You’re not that short.”

“Compared to you? I’m a child.”

“Well, yes,” Sooga said. “But we had two very different life paths growing up.”

“That’s true,” Kohga said. Blademasters, footsoldiers, and archers were neatly sorted off in the tribe practically by the time they were six years old. And the three groups did not often interact save for parties and naptime. “But hey,” Kohga said. “If anybody else here can nail down the triple jackhammer double-handed mighty banana aceflip, I bet it’d be you.”

Sooga bowed his head, graciously. He was almost embarrassed, somehow, that Kohga put that amount of faith in him. “Thank you, Master Kohga. I appreciate that.”

“It’d be great to have somebody else doing it. Carrying on its legacy.”

“Then maybe I’ll work on it,” Sooga said with a smile. “Just for you.” Kohga stopped again. Sooga could feel himself needing to fill another pause. “Somebody has to.”

“Damn right somebody has to!!” Kohga said, standing up as if he was about to get some kind of rousing, leaderly speech going. But when no other rousing, leaderly words would come, he stopped sadly and slunk back down. “Because I can’t anymore…” he said. He hunched over and rested his chin in his hands. 

Sooga felt pity for Kohga. And here, he’d thought they had finally gotten on the right track, only for Kohga to turn around and mope again. He didn’t know what else he could do.

“I’m gonna be forgotten as the best footsoldier there ever was. I was the best of the best, Sooga! I won at being an assassin. Because that’s totally normal and something you can do,” Kohga said. He hammered that last part with a pointed bit of emphasis. “And now I’m gonna get replaced. And I can’t be the best at all that shit I was good at anymore.”

“Well, maybe you’ll be the best at Master Kohga-ing now,” Sooga said, with a hopeful nudge. “You’re the only one who can do it.”

Kohga stopped. A wave of sudden realization rushed over his face, illuminating the lights that had wafted so bleakly in him. “Oh my god, you’re right Sooga!” he said, jumping up with enthusiasm. “I’m the only Master Kohga in the whole world! I’m the only Master Kohga in the entire Yiga Clan! Nobody can match me! We have tons of footsoldiers and assassins but… there’s… there’s only one Kohga!! You’re right! You’re absolutely right! I’m Kohga, so everything I do is the best, inherently!”

Sooga smiled, thoroughly amused and absolutely ecstatic to see the Kohga he knew coming alive once more.

“Holy god Sooga you’re…” Kohga turned, staring dumbfounded at Sooga like he wanted to do something, but he didn’t know what. No, he did know what. He wanted to kiss him, right smack across the mouth. But this was something he didn’t think he could get away with yet. “You’re a genius!” he said, giving him a generous hug instead. “I have the best bodyguard alive.”

So Kohga relaxed and took his time on the path to become Kohga. He learned to enjoy his newfound freetime, and got used to visiting the footsoldiers as chief--no longer as classmate---even if he was still jealous from time to time. He reminded himself that nobody else got to touch the wicked collar or the big cool spiky ball, and that was enough for him. He had the biggest, strongest, smartest, sexiest bodyguard in the entire world, and now he could spend all day goofing off, and there was no telling what crimes he could commit then. Maybe he’d try to get into Gerudo Town. He’d always heard that was interesting.


	17. Sparrows, Stars, and Shadow Puppets from a Doomsday Prophet to a Little Queen

Queen Zelda-Rose absolutely loved to visit Astor in his study. And the tiny Princess Zelda was now almost always accompanying her.

Little Zelda, though just barely on the verge of three, already had a fascination for tools and trinkets and even ritual objects. Astor had to be very careful to keep his things out of reach whenever the Queen and Zelda would come to visit--little Princess Zelda was quick to get her hands on everything, and his altar and cabinets were full of sharp and breakable items like sewing needles, daggers, and crystal balls. 

Their visits were so frequent, and such an indirect source of stress for him, in fact, that he’d started leaving picture books and kid-safe toys on the bottom level of his bookshelf in an attempt to divert the young girl’s attention. At least it would keep her away from the candles and incense sticks, which, no matter how enchanting and delectable they looked to a young toddler, were not supposed to be eaten.

The Queen was sitting one day in Astor’s study, talking to him about goings on in the kingdom, her visits to Urbosa, other things about this and that, when Princess Zelda suddenly grew bored of her coloring book. Her eyes locked on to the large, spherical object with the turning gears that was resting on the top of the tiered, shelf-like altar behind Astor’s desk. From her angle, the object almost seemed to frame the man like a halo. She stood up and started walking toward it, but when Astor saw her coming, he scooted back from his desk and prepared to swipe whatever she took out of her hand while her mother could pull her away. She stopped just short of his desk, however, still looking up at it.

“She-kah,” Zelda said, reaching her hand up. Astor immediately realized what she was after, just as stunned that she knew enough to recognize it. But, in truth, little did he know that “Sheikah” had actually been one of Zelda-Sparrow’s first words.

“She’s very fascinated with Sheikah technology. We think she picked it up from some of our guards, perhaps the researchers. We have a little scientist on our hands,” Queen Zelda-Rose said, smiling at her little baby. She picked her daughter up and swung her to her hip so Zelda was a bit more at face level with it. “Do you want to see it better, my little bird?”

Zelda reached out to the astrolabe even further, both of her arms outstretched as far as they would go, nearly tipping out of her mother’s arms. But, thankfully, the Queen was well-equipped to deal with her daughter’s squirming, and she was nowhere close to touching it.

“Can she touch it?” Zelda-Rose asked him. Astor stepped back.

“Um, no. I would prefer it if she didn’t.”

“Oh no worry! That’s okay. I know your objects are very important to you.”

“But I can give her a demonstration,” Astor said. Queen Zelda’s eyes lit up as Astor turned to the altar behind him and lifted the orb, coming out from around his desk and raising it up above them. Queen Zelda took her baby in her lap and sat down on a nearby sofa, so eager and attentive if they were about to watch a play. Astor waved his hand around the astrolabe and it began to glow.

“Look, Sparrow, it’s like our light,” Zelda-Rose said, letting a ball of light spark out from her own hand. Baby Zelda giggled and clapped her hands. That made Astor smile.

“It can project stars, as well,” Astor said to her. Keeping the orb above his hand, he went over to the three tall windows that lined his outside wall and drew their curtains closed. It was the middle of the day, so blocking out the light would allow them to see better. The other doors to his study were either closed or cracked--the one farthest from them remaining open.

Astor then moved to the center of the room--where there was a large rug with a star diagram on it, and lifted the astrolabe higher into the air. It began to glow brighter now, then exploded into a brilliant light that--while mystifying--was by no means blinding. A dome of stars projected around the room, circling them. Little Zelda’s eyes twinkled in fascination, reflecting light from the astrolabe and the stars, turning around this way and that to follow the constellations as they passed.

“How does it float like that?” Zelda-Rose asked.

“When your energy is attuned to it, the two frequencies create a sort of magnetism which allows you to manipulate it without coming into contact,” Astor said. “Part of why it’s best if others don’t touch it.”

The Queen nodded. “Is it a bit like my levitation, when I use my Goddess Power?”

“I’m not as familiar with the workings of Hylia, but I would assume so.”

“Mommy, it’s like nighttime!” Zelda said, tugging eagerly at her mother to look. Zelda-Rose scooped her up in her arms again.

“It is, little bird,” she said, hugging her. “It’s because of the Sheikah technology, and that man’s magic.” The Queen pointed to Astor, who looked at them a bit surprised. Princess Zelda stared at him in wonder, realizing he was the one making the ball glow.

“She-kah! She-kah! She-kah!” Little Zelda chanted, clapping her hands together and giggling again. Astor was flattered, but hoped she didn’t now mistakenly believe  _ he  _ was Sheikah. He was simply using their invention.

It wasn’t long until Zelda-Sparrow noticed the shadow of her hand on the wall. And it gave her mother a great idea. Using a combination of shadow and light, the two of them began to make little shadow puppets--a swan, a butterfly, a bird--that were playing with each other and chasing one another amidst the constellations. Astor watched them as he noted that it was, in a strange way, like the story of the Zodiac itself.

Zelda’s mother then lifted her up and walked her around the room amid the dome of stars, creating something of an immersive shadow play, and they went around playing with shadows and dancing with lights while Astor held up the circle of stars around them. He found it to be a quite unconventional use of his power--he had been preparing to give her an in-depth explanation of how it worked, including how each of the gears functioned, then perhaps demonstrate how to read them or a vision or two--but it was a sweet gesture, nonetheless. 

And perhaps a child, even one such as brilliant and talented as little Princess Zelda, was not ready to hear such things of secrets and magic. Perhaps she did just belong here with her mother, careless and free, playing with shadows, dancing with light, and singing their fancies among the wild orbit of the gears and the stars.


	18. The Siege of Fort Hateno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yet another adventure from my playthrough of age of calamity. i dont know how on earth i killed him that quickly but i sure did. Impa, Zelda, Kohga, and Urbosa are my all-female assassination squad.

This was exactly the outcome he had envisioned.

Somehow, in some other universe, Astor had been coordinated enough this time to wrangle along not just Harbinger Ganon--who was finally behaving--but a Malice Frost Talus, Malice Igneo Talus, a Malice Hinox, Malice Lynel, and plenty of other monsters and Guardians. The Hylian army stood absolutely no chance, especially as Calamity Ganon would be arriving to the show later. If the Hylians wanted any chance of survival, they had about ten minutes to succeed. And, judging by the way things were going, that was damn near impossible.

But then the Sheikah girl appeared.

Astor had seen her briefly before, and knew she was quite fearsome in combat, but, from his safe commanding position in one of the easternmost outposts--protected by a  _ Hinox, _ no less--he hadn’t expected her to arrive so quickly. How had she even known where he was?! It was like he had been marked there on a map or something…

But, hardly after the battle had even begun, Impa was through the Hinox and barging into Astor’s outpost, and before Astor even truly had time to react--even with the addition of two Stalmoblins and Hollow Link for backup--there were suddenly six other copies of her, and they were all running amok, stabbing everything in sight. After taking more than several stabs almost directly to the face, Astor decided to retreat to the second outpost.

But not even forty seconds later, Impa was there again.

One minute and forty seconds into the fight, the commanding general was dead.

Kohga was somewhere on the battlefield, too, apparently, but Astor didn’t know that considering the, well, everything else, but he managed to take down Calamity Ganon on his own with plenty of elemental rods while Impa and Zelda watched.


	19. In Which Astor Refuses to See Kohga Naked

Astor was pleasantly minding his own business when he heard a distinctive and familiar wailing from the other side of his door. He was in the middle of moving all the bananas from off of his altar; the Yiga had mistaken his study for a storage closet  _ once again _ . He at first tried to ignore the voice--knowing full well who it was going to be--but when Kohga then started yelling louder and banging on the wall, he conceded and opened the door.

"What do you want?” he asked, flatly. Kohga was leaning in the doorway, smoothie in hand, and, by the way he hung limply around like a little ragdoll, Astor could tell that even though it was only 2pm, Kohga was already a little bit drunk. He had tears streaming down his face.

_ “Does Sooga liiiiikeeeee meeeeee?” _

Astor turned from the doorway, trying to block the sobbing boy-chief from entering. “I am not doing this shit again,” he said.

_ "Pleeeaaaaseeeeee _ ,” Kohga said, stepping further into the room.

"No.”

“Whad’do I gotta do t’get him to like me,” Kohga said, sitting up on Astor’s nightstand and making the human equivalent of the :/ face, exactly. He swung his legs back and forth stirred his drink around sadly.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Astor said, moving back to the altar to rearrange his supplies. He hefted up another stack of bananas and dropped them down into a crate. “Why don’t you put yourself to good use and get all these damned bananas off my things?”

"If I do, will you help me?”

Astor paused. He looked down at the crate, then to the remaining mess of items buried in the pile of bananas. It was like they had ransacked the room on purpose. And he was tired of always cleaning up the Yiga Clan’s messes, so maybe it would be best if he just played along. “Alright,” he said.

After Astor and Kohga had moved all the bananas at least out into the hallway, Astor took some incense and wafted around the smoke to quickly cleanse the space--irritated, because it was something that he should have spent much longer on, considering the constant barrage of desecrations put forth by the invasive travesty that was the Yiga Clan--but, at the present moment, he’d do anything to get Kohga out of his room as quickly as possible, so he’d have time to cleanse later. It wasn’t like he was trying to give a shit about this reading anyway.

He took a seat at the table and motioned Kohga to sit across from him.

“Alright,” Astor said. “What is your question?”

“Will he ever fucking rail me,” Kohga asked, with the :/ face again.

Astor stopped. Leave it to a child to ask such a vulgar question. He resisted his blood-curdling urge to get up and flip the table right then--the ritual objects were expensive--and slowly gathered his thoughts as Kohga continued to swirl his straw around sadly.

“Kohga, and I mean this very harshly… in no universe am I ever putting myself into  _ any  _ sort of trance where I would even remotely have to think about you having sex.”

Kohga frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Ask a different fucking question.”

Kohga sat there for a moment and pouted. Swinging his legs around until he at last asked, more hopefully, “Will we ever get married??”

“No,” Astor said, immediately.  


“But you didn’t even check.”

“I know. Now get out.”

Kohga pouted for a moment more, but then scooched his chair out--being sure to make an angry, exaggerated dragging noise as it scraped across the floor--and walked out the door, taking an armful of bananas with him as he went. Astor sighed in momentary relief to at least have a moment’s quiet--and the bratty, spoiled child out of his sight.

There were twice the amount of bananas in Astor’s room the following day.


	20. Rehydrated Ganondorf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> someone is thirsty stay hydrated lads

A very sexy man had been visiting Astor in his dreams.

He had long, flowing hair and eyes of blazing amber. He wore chains of gold, many elegant jewels, and a navy, royal sash on one shoulder of his tunic that otherwise left his chest peeking out. His skin was rough, warm-toned and brown like the ancient stones of the Gerudo temple walls around him. Perhaps this was because the man was Gerudo himself. A very ancient Gerudo, indeed. In fact, this man was Ganondorf, the former Gerudo king.

Astor was still young the first time Ganondorf appeared in his dreams. It was the first night Astor stayed in the castle after becoming the apprentice to the Royal Seer. But Ganondorf was feeling quite rude on that particular day--considering his corpse had been rotting for ten thousand years below the castle--and he thought it would be good to command Astor’s attention with a fright. So just as quickly as he’d appeared to him in all his former grace and majesty, leading him on with a warm smile and the illusion of a feast, he warped himself to reveal his true, current corpse-like form to frighten him into submission. It seemed to have worked… mostly.

Over the next couple years or so, Ganon started noticing that it wasn’t long until Astor seemed to  _ want  _ to have these dreams. He was sending out a very peculiar energy. Like he was hoping for them. Going to sleep at night, attempting to lucid dream to go back and speak with him in his living, Gerudo form. Ganon thought it was a great way to get in touch with his future prophet, so he obliged.

He summoned a vision and Astor appeared standing in a great Gerudo royal hall with candles and sconces all around him--statues of the olden Gerudo leaders surrounding them--and, framed by streams of water and sitting atop his golden throne--was Ganondorf. He looked to the prophet with a keen amount of interest.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Oh. Um. Hi. Hello…” Astor said, quietly.

“You’ve been trying to reach me.”

“I have,” Astor said, even more quietly this time.

“Is this because you’re ready to do what I need you to do?”

“Um, no.”

_ What? _ Ganondorf cocked his head to the side slightly, a bit confused at what Astor had to say. But the boy had been giving him so much resistance--he was a bit thick-skulled, and had to be guided through everything slowly--so he supposed it made sense. Astor hadn’t even put the pig dreams together until he was sixteen, and that was including how Ganon had tirelessly made sure all the pigs were made of Malice. But still, for Astor to attempt to contact him when he wasn’t ready to do his bidding seemed… bold.

“I um, I like my current job at the castle, actually. I really do. The Queen is lovely, and it’s really such a shame this all is going to happen…”

“Are you attempting to defy me?” Ganondorf said, an anger in his voice rising. But, at the same time, he couldn’t help but laugh. This plan was ten thousand years in the making. A silly little Hylian was not about to ruin it for him now. “Are you here to try to talk me out of it? That’s not ever going to work, Astor. My mind is set. I all but own you.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t trying that at all. I’m sure eventually I’ll… do whatever you need me to do. Unfortunately…”

“Then what in hell’s name have you been trying to do?”

There was a long silence. Astor was rocking a bit back and forth on his toes, tugging on the sleeves of his robe uncomfortably. In all honesty, he didn’t know what he was trying to do, and it was quite awkward to have to admit that in the presence of a king. “I didn’t think I would actually show up here,” he admitted.

“Then what was the goal?”

Astor was silent again. “I just wanted to um… see you.”

“See me?”

“I forgot what you looked like.”

Ganondorf blinked, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe he’d heard him correctly. But he had.  _ Forgot what he looked like? _ Why in hell would that matter? Ganondorf extended his arms outward in his chair and leaned back as if to say  _ “Well, here I am.”  _ Astor continued to stare.

“Well, now you’re seeing me.”

“Yeah…”

There was another long pause. Astor looked to Ganondorf. Gandondorf looked to Astor. Astor looked to Ganondorf. Astor looked to Ganondorf. Astor looked to Ganondorf.

“Is that all..?” Ganondorf asked, finally.

Astor paused. “I wasn’t sure if you actually appeared to me like this the first time.”

“Well, I did.”

“All I really remembered was the corpse.”

Ganondorf raised his hands to his temples and rubbed his eyes. He uttered under his breath  _ “Ha’ii il eth savett’he,”  _ which was Ancient Gerudo for  _ “for fuck’s sake,”  _ or, if translated more literally,  _ “of god’s unholy fuck.”  _ He looked back to Astor, exhausted.

“I am actually a corpse, yes. Please do not remind me.”

“Sorry.”

There was another long silence. Ganondorf supposed he’d just have to get used to Astor staring. He supposed it was a lot to take in. The lost Gerudo architecture, the majesty of a forgotten king. And Astor was taking it all in, indeed. His eyes tried not to dwell on the golden ring pierced through Ganondorf’s exposed nipple, nor wonder if there was a second one to match. Nor wonder what it would feel like to touch him, or have him graze his fingers across his neck the way he did the first time they met…

“Can we sit at the table again?” he asked, suddenly.

“What..?”

“Last time you had me at a table. And there were like candles and you were looking at me and you had your head in your hand and you were kinda smiling--”

_ “What--? _ ”

Astor paused. He and the Gerudo king stared at one another for a very long time, Ganondorf confounded--not really sure what Astor was getting at--and Astor not really sure what he was getting at, either. 

“This is going very poorly. I would like to wake up now.”

Ganondorf looked at the young man very strangely. He seemed so tiny and useless cowering among the towering walls and pointed arches surrounding them. He’d have a lot of learning to do before he was ever fit to be a prophet to a returning king. Perhaps it was better for him to be taking his time.

But he couldn’t send the boy away without another threat. So while Astor continued to stammer and stare--tugging at his robes, the strands of his hair, his knees shaking harder and his eyes growing wider with each progressing minute--Ganondorf stayed there for a moment longer and let Astor take it all in. 

Then, when a moment had sufficiently passed, and Ganondorf could see him sweating nervously as he was, he dissipated into a cloud of smoke--a thick, swirling haze of Malice--before rushing toward him. His face reappeared at the head of the smoke--thrusting it forward as eyes melted away to red, glowing dots underneath--and his young Gerudo skin peeled back to reveal the dessicated Gerudo flesh underneath. He screamed, laughing directly in Astor’s face while he seized up in terror.

Astor woke up in a cold sweat. But something else there was still a little bit hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i ship gastor so bad


	21. In Which the Relationship Between Kohga and Sooga is Completely Platonic in Nature

Kohga learned a new word. That, or he was just getting more bold.

Sooga was very used to Master Kohga calling him “honey” and “dear” after three years of knowing him, and it was a very fun and completely platonic thing they did as friends. Sooga did not really do it back, because he felt odd making that level of casual speech to his leader, but he thought it was very nice that Master Kohga felt comfortable enough around him to be so friendly.

But recently, Kohga started using a new word.

He didn’t say it to Sooga’s face. But Sooga noticed that sometimes while he was doing drills with the other blademasters, or fought off a particularly dangerous set of monsters in Kohga’s presence, Kohga would see him raise his blades and slash at the enemy, at which point he would step back and whisper to himself some variation of “Oh yes daddy.” Sometimes, Sooga would even hear him say “Ugh kill me,” which concerned Sooga greatly, because killing Master Kohga was exactly the opposite of what his job was.

Sooga knew that sometimes people would call other people “daddy” when they thought they were attractive. He’d heard others in the Yiga Clan it, mostly joking, and mostly gay men. He didn’t really get it, but since Master Kohga already called him “honey” and “dear,” Sooga figured it was probably something like that. But he wasn’t really sure. So Sooga decided that the next time he heard Master Kohga do it, he’d ask just to be sure.

Sooga and Kohga were hanging out near the bottomless pit. Kohga had his typical little alcove in the corner outfitted with blankets and pillows and a few bananas in case he got hungry. While keeping watch for him, Sooga was working on some new drills. And then, just like clockwork, as Sooga raised his blades above his head to send out a shockwave, he heard Kohga mutter, from behind him,

“Ugh yes daddy.”

Sooga stopped his arms mid-swing and turned around. “Why are you calling me daddy?”

Kohga’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized Sooga could hear him. He only had a second or two to think, so he had better think fast.

“…I miss my father.”

Sooga made an expression that could only be described as the human equivalent of :( exactly. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.

“You can kiss me to make me feel better.”

“Ok.”

And so Sooga went over and kissed Master Kohga sweetly on the forehead--in a very platonic way--and then tucked Master Kohga in and wished him goodnight. He hoped he would soon feel better about the death of his father.


	22. A Fragmented Monument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this started out as "the beach episode" but then it got serious

When Zelda-Sparrow was approaching two years old, her mother had wanted to take a small getaway trip to the coast near Lurelin Village. Zelda-Rose had wanted the trip to be low-key, of course, so that the residents in Lurelin would not take their presence as some sort of grand, stressful event that needed to be catered to. She wanted her family to experience the tiny village peacefully, exactly as it was.

But, of course, word of their journey got out well beforehand. As a royal, it was hard to keep anything a secret, especially when the Royal Guard insisted on sending scouts from the Hylian Army to assure everything was safe ahead of time. The villagers in Lurelin more than noticed people from Hyrule Castle were scoping out the village, even despite when the family showed up in plainclothes and in an unadorned carriage. It was hard to miss the entourage of soldiers and courtiers that accompanied them, nor the stark-white horses that signified the royal family.

Astor had his arm twisted by the Queen into going, so even though he wasn’t exactly planning on participating and wasn’t exactly one for going outside, he generally enjoyed spending time with them. He tried to remember it was much like when his classmates at the abbey would go out and spend the day at the river. He hadn’t been the most lively during those trips, either, but it had always been nice to tag along. Mostly so that he wasn’t so alone.

The party arrived in Lurelin about five days after setting out, and the villagers scrambled to look presentable as they saw the white horses descend the hill. The entourage parked the carriages near the inn and Zelda-Rose went inside to discuss lodgings with the innkeeper. King Rhoam stayed outside.

Even though she’d been prepared, the innkeeper doubled back when she saw the Queen in a plain white sundress and straw hat, carrying the small baby princess on her hip.

“Sparrow, honey, wave hello,” she said to her daughter as they entered. The baby Zelda looked around, stupefied at the strange wooden huts and grass ceilings around them. She had enough motor skills to half her way through a wave, though only half-certain at this point what waving really was. The residents of the inn bowed in respect.

“Your Royal Majesty,” the innkeeper said, keeping her head low. “It is an honor to have you here.”

“Oh, is our cover really that blown?” Zelda-Rose asked. The innkeeper and her husband looked around to the small posse of guards that had trailed in behind her. The Queen realized this and sighed. “I suppose so, then.”

“Will you be staying with us? We can have our best accommodations readied for you right away. How many are in your party? I deeply apologize if we do not have the space--”

“Please,” Zelda-Rose said. “Only a cabin or two will do if you have them. Some of us were planning on camping out beneath the stars.”

The innkeeper and her husband had certainly never been this close to the Queen before, but she certainly was just like all the stories of her told. She spoke with a noble accent, of course, but even despite this propriety, her voice had a mystical ability to put others at ease.

The inn scrapped together to procure two of the nicest cabins they had, and it seemed like the whole town pitched in to help the royal party unload their things, despite the royals having their own helpers to do so. The guard and soldiers, refusing their own cabins, set up camp under the palm trees nearby. 

Astor and King Rhoam had been waiting outside while Zelda-Rose had spoken with the inn, awkwardly not making conversation with one another, Astor inching further away from him with each progressing minute. That was probably a wise choice. Zelda-Rose and her daughter reappeared with the other guards and they were all shown to their rooms.

There were three beds in each cabin, and then the rest of the party would be camping out. But with the initial plan to give the King and Queen their own cabin, that left three beds for the rest of the court. Zelda-Rose, however, rejected this notion and said another member of the court was welcome to stay in their room. 

Playing politics, none of them jumped to take the spot, groveling at the Queen’s feet. And so the Queen singled out Astor, and since Rhoam refused to let Astor stay in a room alone with himself, his wife, _and_ his child, they decided another guard or two would be sleeping in the room as well. 

They rolled out three bedrolls there in the corner--one by the king, and the other two effectively blocking Astor in. Astor had a feeling that was intentional. But, at this point, he was used to the King sending guards to monitor his every move.

Accommodations were quickly becoming quite cramped, but this seemed to be part of the Queen’s grand design. She wanted everyone to enjoy the stripped-down, bare simplicity of it all, broken free from the stuffy constraints that bound them at Hyrule Castle.

After the family was settled, Zelda-Rose decided to explore the tiny village and take her daughter out to the beach. Of course, she was followed by a couple members of the court who thought they still had something to gain from her, but the King went off with some of the guard in the meantime to hike the wilderness and procure some fish for dinner. 

Astor wasn’t sure where to go. On the one hand, if he went with the Queen, the King would have another reason to accuse him of suspicious activity. On the other hand, if he went with the King, he’d be, well, going with the King. And his last excursion into the wilderness with the King, despite taking place several years ago, we still filed into his memory as notably unpleasant. So he elected for the secret third option, and that was staying inside and not doing anything.

However, after he had been sitting for a while in the room, he couldn’t help but glance out the window and see the idyllic sway of the palm trees and crystal-blue waters around them. A warm breeze passed under the trees and through the window, bringing the feeling of the sun brushing the hair against his face. It was then that he realized he was being humorless. Maybe he should go outside.

Astor closed his book and swept his bags under his bed--making sure that the astrolabe was well-hidden under his nightclothes. It was true he could have left it in his study where it would be watched by the attendants, but he didn’t want to chance any of them touching it, even in a well-meaning attempt to dust or polish it. That, and with the distance they had traveled and the time they’d already spent on the journey, he always felt safer with it nearby.

Astor stepped out of the room and into the sun, which took him a moment to adjust. He could see the King and a few guards currently at the docks, speaking with a couple fishermen who had a colorful rack of their catches on display. If he kept his distance, he was sure he could make it past them unnoticed, as long as the King didn’t happen to glance his direction as he was making off toward the beach. Astor turned from the inn and elected to take the route through the village rather than follow the coast, where he’d at least have the cover of the trees and buildings to hide from the sightlines of the King.

The village was pleasant, and mostly shaded given the size of the palm trees and large cliff that loomed on watch above them. The inhabitants of Lurelin were used to travelers--albeit, there were better spots in the Faron region more equipped for tourism--but not so accustomed to travelers from Hyrule Castle itself, and much less a man clothed head to toe in dark, navy-blue robes and sashes with decorative golden accents and the Hylian royal blue. 

Yes, while the rest of the royals had appeared in plainclothes, Astor was obligated to wear his religious habit every day, and, despite this being a simpler version of the full regal attire he wore most days, it still set Astor apart as anything but a normal man. Perhaps this was what Thelem had felt like when he’d visited Hateno Village all those years ago and had all the locals staring at him. Because the villagers were… definitely staring. But what else was new?

Astor passed a few more of the huts on his way out toward the beach, passing under a plain, wooden archway that opened Lurelin up to the rest of the sea, hearing the rustle from the tufts of tall, dry grasses and palms now joined by the water. 

He saw small groups of people off in the distance--one or two wading off in the water, one farther off perhaps looking at the island in the distance, and he spotted a larger group of people making their way slowly down the beach, walking up the direction coming toward him. He caught a flash of a flowing white sundress and the beige of a straw cap, leaning down to help support a small child in a near-identical outfit, making her clumsy little steps in the sand. No doubt that was the Queen and the Princess.

Astor began walking the stretch of the beach, keeping closer to the grass so he was less likely to get sand in his shoes, but at this point, it was going to be inevitable. He hoped keeping closer to the grass rather than the water would keep him a safe distance away from the Queen and her entourage so he would not be accused of following her, but with the open expanse of the sand and sea, he stuck out like a shadow in broad daylight.

As the party drew closer, Zelda-Rose called out to him.

“Astor!” she said. “Come join us!”

Well, at least now there were witnesses to the affair that could verify that he’d been invited, not stalked her. Not that he thought it would make a difference--they all actively searched for reasons to find fault with him. He approached the group and saw the Queen with two of her attendants--one of her own personal attendants, the other being Zelda-Sparrow’s caregiver. One soldier, and one of the Queen’s relatives who had also accompanied them. Zelda-Rose had one hand holding her daughter’s, who reached up as tall as she could to keep hold of her mother and the hand of her nurse.

After five days, he would have thought there were no more questions as to why the Seer was joining the party, otherwise full of just the family and their personal attendants. The answer was simply that Zelda-Rose considered him one of the closest members of the court. Perhaps due to her own childhood relationship with Clement, the Seer before him. But even now, he could sense some lingering apprehension among them that Zelda-Rose either did not notice or deliberately ignored.

Princess Zelda started tugging at her mother, slipping her hand free of her other attendant and taking hold of her mother’s skirt as if to drag her in toward the water. Zelda-Rose followed, still careful to steady her daughter’s footsteps so she wouldn’t go toppling into the water or sand.

The other attendants winced slightly as Princess Zelda, upon letting her toes hit the shallow water, immediately squatted down and started poking at some shells. Zelda-Rose followed her to wade in the water. She felt how her assistants cringed--knowing they were the ones to care for her clothing, and they took great, meticulous care in her and her daughter’s appearance--but she turned and rolled her eyes at them.

“They’re clothes,” she said. “They dry.”

To even more of their dismay, Zelda-Rose then squatted down in the shallows to join her daughter, picking up shells from the bottom of the sand there and showing them to her. Zelda-Sparrow laughed and stomped her feet, slapping her hands across the surface of the water. She almost knocked herself off-balance in her glee, but her mother caught her just as she started to teeter. She then splashed a bit of water at her daughter, who giggled and splashed back. The two were now engaged in the tiniest, gentlest splash fight to ever exist.

The rest of their party looked on and appreciated the Queen and the little Princess--they were very used to the two of them wandering off and getting distracted like this. And while it was always quite precious to watch mother and daughter interact like this--especially when Astor knew very well just how much Zelda-Sparrow meant to her mother--it was still a little bit too bright out for Astor’s tastes, and he kept his eyes squinted low, trying to find a comfortable resting place somewhere between the light that reflected off the water and the light that reflected off the sand.

But then a strange fragment of something caught his eye.

It wasn’t quite like a shell--wrong shape and color--but looked too precise and even to be a stone. Wedged almost under a large rock where the water, sand, and grass all intersected. Something off it almost glinted blue, and Astor broke from the party a bit to inspect it. He couldn’t get much of a better glimpse of it from here, and unfortunately had to wade in the water if he wanted to try to free it from the sand.

Resigning himself to it, Astor rolled up his sleeves and gathered his robe--standing just at the edge of the water hoping it wouldn’t breach his shoes too deeply if he acted fast enough. He plunged his hand into the water and managed to pry it loose, freeing a little cloud of sand as the rocks displaced. He stood up and backed out of the water, with only a bit of damage on the edge of his sleeves and the bottom of his robes. These were the junkier ones, anyway.

Zelda-Rose noticed he had picked something up, and went over to examine it.

“What is it?” she asked. Zelda-Sparrow was still stomping beside her, now with a few shells in her free hand.

“Some sort of shard,” Astor said, turning it over. “Perhaps pottery?”

But as he ran his hands over it, it seemed too weighty to be a piece of pottery. It was definitely made of stone, albeit very polished and intricately carved. And then his thumb brushed across the glint of color he’d seen, which was a lustrous, bluish material that reminded him of the glassy surface of the astrolabe. But the carvings on the shard were much more angular than any patterns that would be Sheikah. In fact, it reminded him more of the Zonai structures they had passed on their way here.

Zelda-Rose reached for the object and he handed it to her. She turned it over a few times in her hands as well. “Fascinating,” she said, when she could make no sense of it. She could agree it was not Sheikah, and then she squatted down to pass it to her daughter. “What do you think, my little bird? What does all your scientific investigation tell you?”

“She-kah,” Zelda said, abandoning her shells and taking it. Her mother picked the shells up and pocketed them, knowing her daughter would miss them later. Zelda-Sparrow did not know whether or not the ancient shard was truly Sheikah, “She-kah” was currently just her word for anything very ancient, mysterious, or old. Zelda-Rose giggled.

“Well, perhaps it could be!” she said. “You would know far better than I.”

Princess Zelda, enamored with the object, now had set aside any other fascinations with the beach. She played with the object better than she would a doll or another toy, despite not knowing quite what to do with it. She ran her hands across the carvings, pointing and babbling as if she could read the words that inscripted there. Considering she spoke in a language none of them could understand, perhaps she really could.

The group started to turn back away from the beach and head back into town, where Zelda-Rose eagerly greeted the shy locals--perhaps a bit too eagerly--and poked into some of the shops where she purchased another dress and a matching hat. This dress was brightly colored, almost like quilt-work, and had abstracted patterns of fish and Lurelin designs scattered throughout. The hat was made of a darker straw than her current one, not as wide, and featured a red hibiscus on the side. 

The storekeeper was flattered almost to the point of embarrassment that the Queen of Hyrule had found something of value in her homey little wares. But even just at a glance, Astor could tell while they weren’t the most luxurious fabrics around, they were sturdy and well-made, and could easily fair the weather of the climate. Even if the fibers were a bit large.

The Queen bought a child’s shell necklace and matching bracelet for her daughter, but Zelda wiggled around too much for her mother to put them on her. She was still occupied with the fragment they had found at the beach, and when another local saw her with it in her hands, he told them of some ruins farther off in the east that matched the fragment, and they should definitely check them out at night. The Queen thanked him for the advice, and then asked if he would like to join them for this excursion after dinner. He too was flattered, but frantically declined.

The King returned with the guards as the sky began to turn golden, and the little adventuring party set up on the beach just outside their cabins to cook their meals. The Queen, Astor, and the rest of the party had been waiting at the inn for them to return, and it was not lost on the King how Astor had been around his wife all day. Astor averted his gaze from the King’s side eye, resisting his temptation to wonder aloud why, if the King did not like him around his wife so much, the King himself did not spend time with his wife. But doing so would guarantee a speed run into exile, and he wasn’t willing to give up his way of living just yet.

The King and his party gathered around a few cooking pots and lit a fire, starting to prepare for cooking. The locals had worked with some of the soldiers to ensure there was enough seating and dishware for everyone, even if they were still eating outside, much like camping. A few of the fishermen stood over the cooking pots, giving pointers to the King and his attendants to ensure the days’ catches were cooked to Lurelin perfection.

The meal was ready just as the sun began to set. The fish was tender and flaky, cooked with just the right amount of lemony spices with the help of the Lurelin fishermen, who knew which ones paired perfectly with each fish in their sea. They enjoyed it alongside a stir fry of rice and roasted summer vegetables, also a Lurelin speciality. 

The Queen could not give enough accolades to the people in the town and remarked again and again how her husband had done such a wonderful job finding something for everybody. This, she did while still trying to wrangle Zelda-Sparrow, who kept wandering away from her plate in favor of trying to push a stick into the fire. She played word and counting games with her daughter to keep her occupied long enough to eat. The King and the locals, meanwhile, discussed how next they could try their hand at gathering crabs and shellfish for tomorrow’s feast. Astor sat and ate quietly, just content to be there and see them all interact.

They stayed there as the sky began to turn to dusk, feeling the golden warmth of the remaining fire. But as the sun slipped away behind the horizon, Astor checked his pocket watch and knew it was time for the Vespers. He excused himself from their presence, went back into the room and procured a small iron lantern he carried with his things. He opted against using the astrolabe tonight--it was far too conspicuous, and he’d been using the lantern most their journey so far. Best to keep it consistent. He definitely wasn’t out here trying to make a spectacle of himself.

Stepping out to the front of the inn, Astor uttered a short blessing to light it, hung his prayer beads around the lantern, and began to process eastward out of the town. He hoped to find an isolated spot on the beach where he could conclude the ritual. He whispered each affirmation as he went, trying not to pay mind to the curious eyes in the windows and doorways who saw him whispering and walking by. They didn’t have an appointed Seer in town, so this was not a sight they were used to seeing.

The Queen saw him and realized it was his prayer time, which officially meant evening dusk had fallen. It would probably be an excellent time to head back toward the beach where the local had mentioned the ruins, then. Princess Zelda saw the strange man wander away whispering to himself with the lantern like he did every night, and she squirmed around on her mother’s shoulder watching him as far off as she could before he disappeared.

The group walked back out to the beach, now where the cooler night air was almost still, save for a small brush against a tree or shrub here and there. The beach was quiet, and mostly empty, save for a few small groups or couples walking along the water closer to town. They saw one lone figure standing in the middle of a wide stretch of grass, isolated from everyone else, lifting up a light beneath a palm tree. That had to be Astor.

“Perhaps we should wait for him,” Zelda-Rose said as they stopped, looking out to him. “He was the one who found the fragment.”

“Nonsense. There’s no telling how long we’ll be waiting,” King Rhoam replied. “He has to carry the light all the way back to the inn after he’s finished, doesn’t he?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” the Queen admitted. “The specifics of the Seers’ rituals are often lost on me.”

“We shouldn’t wait up, then,” Rhoam said again. “If he wants to join us, he can.” Besides, it wasn’t like anything had ever stopped him from joining before…

“Oh, but we aren’t in any sort of hurry. Perhaps we should just enjoy our time and wait,” the Queen said.

“Zelda has a bedtime.”

“Well, what difference would she know?” Zelda-Rose said, covering her daughter’s ears. “The difference of an hour or two on a very special occasion won’t make that much of an impact on her.”

“Special occasion?”

“We’re here, Rhoam,” Zelda-Rose said. She looked up at him with a certain sort of unyieldingness, directed specifically toward his apprehension. “We’ve travelled over half a week to be here. And now we’re finally all together in the beautiful little village of Lurelin…” she looked around to the others and then back to Astor, then finally back to her husband. “I wouldn’t feel right to knowingly exclude him.”

“Zelda, they’re just some old ruins. He can see them tomorrow.”

“We should wait on Astor,” the Queen said, more definitive in her answer now. “There should be at least one activity besides eating we all do together.”

Zelda-Rose and King Rhoam stared at one another for a moment, where lengthy conversations often happened between their eyes. Mostly because the bulk of these discussions had already been played out before, and there was no use in hashing out the same old talking points again and again when neither one would budge on their opinion.

Zelda-Sparrow, oblivious to these remarks, continued tugging and pulling at her mother toward the water. Rhoam conceded his gaze, softened by the sight of his wife and daughter interacting so.

“Well,” Zelda-Rose said, giving a small smile to him and a half laugh at the squirming infant. Rhoam put a hand on her shoulder.

“You know I only want to protect you,” he said. Zelda-Rose put her free hand on his in return.

“You are protecting us, Rhoam. We’re safe,” she assured him. She rubbed her thumb back and forth across the back of his hand. The warmth of her words put him at ease, even if he did not necessarily believe them. She, at least, was true in her convictions, even if he often thought they were misguided.

But the Queen stared back at him not just with trust, but assuredness. The rest of the court could tell something was happening between them--as small things often did--but it was kept mostly between the two of them. A singular trace in Zelda-Rose’s eyes worked to say, rather clearly, _“There is absolutely nothing dangerous about Astor,”_ but she refrained from saying this out loud to him. Rhoam took the subtext loud and clear and let out a defeated sigh as he said,

“You place far greater faith in destiny than I.”

“That’s alright, Rhoam, I’m not asking you to. I’m simply asking you to trust my judgment,” she replied. “But, in the meantime, we have a daughter who will have a tantrum if I don’t set her down.”

Zelda-Rose attended to her daughter and the two took a long way around the beach, hoping to keep a healthy buffer between themselves and Astor while he finished up his prayers. But Zelda-Sparrow, still fascinated by the funny man and his lantern, started making her way toward him and slipped away quickly enough from her mother’s grasp to scurry up and tug on his robes. Astor froze, startled, as he hadn’t even realized she was there. Zelda-Rose rushed up to him, sweeping her daughter up in her arms.

“My deepest apologies, I hope we didn’t disturb you--” Zelda-Rose said, scooping her daughter up. She poked her on the nose a little bit and mouthed _“No,”_ to her, but Zelda seemed to think it was a game.

“Not at all, Your Grace,” Astor said.

“We’re headed to the ruins the other fisherman talked about so my daughter can see them,” the Queen said. “We would love for you to join us. If it doesn’t interrupt your prayers, of course.”

“Of course not. As long as I just--” Astor looked to the lantern he was holding, and up around to the stars peeking through the tiny mists of clouds in the sky. It wasn’t like he was going to have a productive session out here in the open, where everyone could see, especially sans the astrolabe. He resigned to this and turned back to her. “I would love to accompany you.”

Baby Zelda was still reaching for the lantern. Her mother smiled. “Excellent! We’ll be off, then.”

Astor followed the Queen and her daughter back to the group, who made their way around the beach and up toward an alcove near the cliff. It was about a ten to fifteen minute walk, with Zelda-Rose and her husband heading off the party--accompanied by, of course, their ambitious and determined, baby-babbling daughter. This was the most serious and exciting expedition to ancient ruins that the tiny princess had ever been on, and it would be only one of many such expeditions she’d make in her lifetime. But she didn’t know that yet.

Astor kept careful watch of the lantern in front of him, thinking that as long as he stayed focused on how it was lit and mentally recited the closing prayers on his way back, that probably counted enough.

As they approached the alcove--a few weathered pillars the locals had referred to as the Palmorae Ruins, they were immediately taken by the sight of two large, glowing platforms and another monument between them. The platforms bore the distinctive orange glow of holy Sheikah architecture, but the monument in the middle was of particular interest, for it glowed the same blue of the fragment the little Zelda currently had in her hand. She pointed at the ruins and squealed, tugging up at her mothers dress.

“Yes, Sparrow, would you look at that!” her mother said. “We’ve made a groundbreaking discovery!”

The group approached the ruins, with little Zelda-Sparrow now leading the way. She clumsily held up her own fragment and pointed again at the large, circular disk that stood there in the center. She ran and stomped eagerly across the Sheikah platforms, her mother careful to steady her to assure she didn’t fall. 

The rest of the party inspected the ruins with a keen but muted interest. The glow of both the blue and orange underneath the dark sky and between the whispers of the palms and the water was certainly otherworldly, and there was an air of sacred mystery about the place. 

The glowing contrast of the darkness and light--including those lights coming from within his own lantern--reminded Astor of the traditional Vespers, and he suddenly realized that perhaps this is why he’d been brought here. Even though each member did not carry their own lantern, they had processed as a unit to the center of a place of great mystery and illumination.

Further off on the beach behind a large palm tree, they discovered another large piece of the monument, but it was much too large for any of them to move or carry. With some assistance from the rest of the guard, King Rhoam thought he would have been able to, _‘But,’_ he said, _‘What is the point? The old thing seems broken beyond repair.’_ They agreed it was best to leave the site be. The locals no doubt knew of the missing shard already, and surely had also left it there for a purpose. 

Little Princess Zelda squatted down on the fragment, tracing the engravings with her fingers, again saying words to herself only she understood, but quickly became distracted by a crab scurrying by. She left her own small fragment behind in the diversion, and her mother reached down to collect the shard where she’d forgotten and then pull her away before she got too far from the group. She then hobbled back to the glowing platforms where she did something… rather unusual.

For a moment, she stopped dead center and looked between the glowing blue monument and the two Sheikah platforms. She approached the stone disk once again and reached up as high as she could. Her mother helped her up and she rubbed her hands against the carvings. When she put her down, however, Zelda made a beeline for the platform on the right and plopped down dead center of it, clapping her hands together with her fingers spread wide in a gesture that imitated prayer. She looked to her mother for confirmation.

“Yes, little bird. It appears to be a site for prayer, doesn’t it?” she said, coming near her. She knelt down beside her daughter and helped her into a praying position. “Just like this, my Sparrow. With your eyes to the heavens, and your heart to the Goddess.”

The rest of the group stood there watching mother and daughter interact, Zelda-Rose giving her daughter small and loving pointers as an introduction to prayer. They could all hear her whispering of the power she held inside and sending small glowing lights from her hands, and the little Zelda babbling back, but it seemed to be quite an intimate scene between mother and daughter that none of them dared to interrupt.

Eventually, they saw the Queen tap her daughter playfully on the nose, and Zelda-Sparrow laughed. The Queen rose and took her daughter by the hand, and the group returned to their cabins for the evening.

Astor set his lantern down on the nightstand beside his bed while the royal guards settled into their bedrolls at the foot of his mattress. It didn’t seem very restful to have three men crowding the room--all there to watch him--but he tried to ignore it and unwind by reading and writing out some of his current thoughts on the evening. Things that had been revealed to him on this most unusual Vesper.

After some light conversation, with Zelda-Rose gushing on about the quaint little town and the King being notably quiet, the royal family settled into bed with King Rhoam in his own and Zelda-Rose in another, cuddling her daughter. Astor watched her stroke her daughter’s hair and hum a soft melody to lull her to sleep--an ancient tune passed down between mother and daughter in the royal line. No one but the Queen knew the lyrics, but perhaps there weren’t really any at all, and they were instead discovered through the improvisation of the song. 

Astor only glanced--he did not stare--not only so as to not be rude, but also because there were still three men watching him, all trained to be suspicious of him. But it was hard not to see in a cabin so small, with himself positioned across from her. He kept to his books and his pen, but unable to truly peel the image from the corner of his eye.

The scene of her daughter kneeling down on the platform kept coming back to him, and he decided to mark it down. It felt like the solution to a puzzle that hadn’t even been revealed yet.

Even as an infant, she was scholarly and intuitive. And, depending on the threads that Fate had already weaved for her, these skills would serve to make her one of Hyrule’s most distinguished Queens. But, by will of Fate, she hopefully would never have to use these skills in times of great tribulation, and could instead carry on at peace with her inquiry here in the wild.

He had a sinking feeling of the contrary, however, and could not exactly pinpoint why.

He set down his pen and then turned to snuff out his lantern. He needed to get good sleep, for there were still days left to be enjoyed.


	23. Voe and You

The day that Master Kohga had brilliantly and courageously broken into Gerudo Town--which had actually been Lady Urbosa’s doing--he had ended up confessing his undying and un-platonic love for Sooga to a handful of the women there. They laughed and offered him some comfort and advice, but since they were talking about men in a town full of women raised by women, there was really not much enlightening any of them had to say.

But one of them suggested something fairly interesting that Kohga thought he just might take them up on.

There was a “Voe and You” class that happened every spring. This class, allegedly, was supposed to make you a master in the arts of handling all things voe-ish in nature. Kohga, being a voe, thought he had a fair handle on all of that already--but considering Sooga, who was also a voe--perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to take a few pointers.

So one night after Sooga’s watch shift, Kohga snuck out of the Yiga Clan hideout along with a small posse of footsoldiers and blademasters to accompany him to Gerudo Town. They thought at first they were going to break in, or at least were there for a raid, but Kohga explained he just needed to talk to someone.

All bundled up, because night in the Gerudo Desert was notoriously cold and especially freeze-y, the small party of Yiga members made it around to the back of the city, where Kohga looked high up to the walls trying to scope out which window it must be. When they believed they’d found the one, the Yiga Clan assembled into formation, and they all joined hands and stacked on top of one another, allowing Kohga to climb on their backs and all the way up to the window.

From atop their shoulders, Kohga pressed his face to the window and peered in. There was not much to see. Not only did his breath completely fog up the glass, but there was a thin pink curtain that divided the rest of the room from view. But this  _ had  _ to be it. Kohga thought he could just make out the shape of a bedpost and a few candles burning in the corner. He started frantically tapping on the window pane.

Urbosa, always a bit of a light sleeper, heard a strange, frantic tapping coming from the window behind her. She sat up and looked around. No, that couldn’t be correct. But she turned and looked back to the window, where the tapping was loudest, and she could just faintly make out the shadow of someone there. She grabbed her scimitar and rose, keeping the sword out in front of her and her other hand extended in case she needed to do some quick lightning.

Kohga saw a figure approach. And then Urbosa pulled back the curtain to reveal Kohga standing there, up on the shoulders of about six others. She frowned. Kohga stopped tapping and smiled, sheepishly, using the fog from his breath to draw a little heart in the window. She sighed and opened it.

“Kohga,” she said, being as polite as she could while still pointing a weapon at him. “What could you possibly want at this hour?”

“Please let me back into Gerudo Town,” he said. “I wanna take the Voe and You class offered in the spring.”

Urbosa almost broke out laughing, but managed to contain herself. She let out only a quick smile instead. “Is that all?” she asked.

“Yes please. I’ll promise I’ll be good,” he said.

Urbosa studied him. While it was true he was more than actively making some very choice “Pity-Me-I-Am-A-Child” faces, he was still only sixteen. Seventeen, now, if her sources were correct. And his eyes did seem to plead this helpless sort of desperation only found in small, broken men. Maybe she’d humor him by helping him out.

“I’ll think about it,” she said at last.

Kohga’s face lit up, and he turned down to the others and yelled to them. “YES!! DID’JA HEAR THAT, BOYS? SHE SAID SHE’LL THINK ABOUT IT!”

But, in his excitement, he had forgotten that he was standing on top of a small tower of his companions, and as he jumped up in glee, they all fell backward into the sand. Kohga landed on his rump, padded by the downfall of so many others before him, and the unluckiest of the bunch took more than a healthy dose of earth directly to the face. Now, Urboa did laugh, and she poked her head out the window called out to them from above.

“It’s not a guarantee,” she said. “And you better not try anything while you’re here.”

“Of course not Miss Zappy-Fingers,” Kohga said, quietly, still feeling the sting on his backside and nearly smelling the charred ash from his last adventure in town. “I really don’t wanna get toasted again…”

“It’s  _ Lady Urbosa _ , and you will address me as such.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kohga said.

Urbosa stood at the window for a moment, watching the group of Yiga as they collected themselves. But, as she turned to go, she raised her hand and snapped her fingers for good measure. A smaller, tamer spark of lightning shot up through them, sending them all falling down once again. They took that as their cue to scram. 

She grinned at him and at how ridiculous the whole thing was.  _ If you give a mouse a cookie… _ Or, in this case,  _ If you give a Kohga a banana and a free pass into Gerudo Town… _

It was humorous, but she wasn’t surprised he was trying to push his luck. It was what Kohgas did best. They  _ were  _ human manifestations of good-luck charms after all, from what she understood about the Yiga’s culture and traditions.

But as Urbosa turned back into her room, two of her guards were already at the door.

“Lady Urbosa,” they said. “Whatever is the matter here?”

“Kohga’s having voe trouble,” she said, without alarm. The guards looked to each other, in fact very alarmed. “I’m thinking of letting him back in. He’s not eighteen yet, and maybe if we help him get his man he’ll calm down.”

She kicked down her scimitar and flopped back down in bed. The guards continued to linger there. They were afraid Lady Urbosa was actually starting to like the kid. And before they knew it, Gerudo Town’s doors were going to be open to the entire Yiga Clan…

But Urbosa still managed to find some vai willing to play the part. Maa’ra, the current instructor of Voe and You, had a true passion for matchmaking and, even though it was Kohga they were talking about, she was determined to find a way to set him up with his voe. 

She and Urbosa found a few other vai in the city willing to put up with Kohga again and warned them in advance he’d be taking the class. Those who had found Kohga at least charming--if not also insufferable--were still willing to attend. The plan was to escort Kohga in and out through one of the smaller gates so he’d have as little interaction with other vai as possible. They didn’t want to have to put up with him anymore.

So class was officially in session!

Kohga showed up on the first day in full Gerudo attire--including makeup, which he was now excellent at applying--and even with a little pen and notepad along with his bag of snacks. Urbosa was almost surprised he’d come so well-prepared. 

The guards let him in through the side entry and walked him down a few doors to the classroom, which was thankfully nearby, practically right under Urbosa’s door. As close to the Guards’ chambers as it possibly could be, so they could escort him in and out as quickly as they needed. The other vai were already in their seats, but Kohga had still managed to arrive on time--even having to come all the way from Karusa Valley. He sat down in his seat near the front.

“Sav’aaq, everyone,” Maa’ra said. “Welcome to your first day of ‘Voe and You,’ a class designed to help you learn to navigate the world of voe and hopefully nab yourself the voe of your dreams.”

Kohga pulled out his notebook and wrote that in big letters on the top of the page: VOE OF YOUR DREAMS. He’d better underline and highlight that one too.

“Typically, this class is aimed at the Gerudo, but it would appear today we have a very special Sheikah joining us today,” Maa’ra said, looking at him. Kohga shrunk down in embarrassment. He was easily the youngest and smallest of anyone here. “Runner up in Miss Vai, weren’t you?” she asked.

“Um, yes…” Kohga said, quietly, careful to remain in his feminine voice. The other women laughed. He could have sworn he heard one of them whisper  _ ‘Kohga,’ _ but he was probably just being paranoid.

“Well,  _ vav’ sha’vaaq _ , welcome back!” Maa’ra said with a smile. The other Gerudo did the same. This put Kohga more at ease. “With that said, why don’t we all go around and briefly introduce ourselves and what we hope to get out of this class?”

So the women went around, starting to the upper left, and each introduced themselves to one another, even though many of them already knew each other and were really only doing this for Kohga’s sake.

“Sav’aaq, I’m Ashune,” the first one said. “I hope to get a wealthy voe out of this class to help fund my drinking habit.”

The other vai laughed. “You always  _ are  _ at the Canteen, aren’t you Ashune?”

“And it doesn’t come cheap.”

The other vai laughed again, and they moved on to the next.

“Sav’aaq, I’m Zhala,” she said. “I’m hoping to get better people skills. I’ve never been outside Gerudo Town for very long before, and my vaba says it’s time for me to get out and hopefully find a husband.”

The other vai nodded in agreement. They were mostly here for a similar reason.

“I’m Yumi,” the third one said. “I’m talking to a cute voe and I want to know how to keep his attention.”

The vai nodded in agreement again. That was a common thing as well. At last, the attention turned to Kohga. He gulped, nervously, even though his disguise had got him this far. They recognized him as a vai, so there was nothing he had to worry about.

“Um, hi, I’m Kohla,” he said. “I’m taking this class because… I know a cute guy. And I want to get him to like me. I’m trying really hard, but I can’t tell if he does.”

They giggled. A lot of them had already heard of Kohga’s boy troubles--in fact, it had been a main part of their preparatory briefing--and exchanged quick glances with one another, but Kohga was so nervous already he didn’t notice, and was more just relieved to hear laughter.

Maa’ra nodded and went on with the class.

“Alight, everyone. Now with introductions aside, I want us to start class off by listing out some characteristics of your ideal voe,” she said. “It’s impossible to find the perfect husband without knowing what you want, right? Try to think about qualities you not only  _ want _ , but also  _ need _ in a man. What are your needs? What kind of voe best suits your lifestyle? So take a few minutes to jot a few ideas down, and then we’ll get to discussing them.”

Kohga started down at his blank sheet of notebook paper, “VOE OF YOUR DREAMS” still highlighted on top. He tapped his pen to his desk and lifted it to his chin--starting to gnaw on the back end of it--but realized he still had a pen-chewing habit and stopped.

What  _ were  _ his needs? His ideal voe? Well, really, it was quite obvious. He needed somebody tall. Smart. Handsome. Rock-hard abs and Olympian thighs. Yes. The answer was quite simple, really. He started down on the page and wrote  _ SOOGA. _

No. He’d better cross that out. That’d be too obvious. He scribbled it out very hard. But then wrote it and scribbled it again. He didn’t like scratching out Sooga’s name.  _ Tall. Smart. Handsome. Could bench press me with one hand _ . Then he stopped, tapping his pen on his desk again. Started to write  _ Sooga,  _ crossed it out, and wrote, instead,  _ Starts with an S and ends with an -ooga. _ There. That was perfect.

Maa’ra then went around and had each of the vai list off some of their qualities, which she started to compile on the board.

“Funny and smart and handsome and charming and--”

“Slow down, Zhala.”

“Abs,” one said. The other Gerudo nodded. “Not as tough as mine though.” They nodded again, more fervently.

“Rich. Not a bum.”

“Not an alcoholic. That’s my job.”

“Ladies, let’s think a little bit more positively about some of these traits, okay?” Maa’ra said, specifically directed toward Ashune’s bitterness. She glanced over to Kohga, who had been noticeably quiet at this point. “Kohla? What about you?” she asked.

Kohga glanced down at his messy sheet of paper, realizing it was quite embarrassing.

“Uh. Well. Tall and smart and handsome. Absolutely ripped. Rock-hard abs. Beautiful eyes. Has a little bit of a dent on his face but that’s okay because he got it in combat and it actually looks really cool--” Kohga’s voice trailed off as he started realizing the girls were staring at him with growing suspicion. He recoiled back and brought the paper in to cover his face.  _ “StartsWithAn‘S’AndEndsWithAn‘--ooga--’” _

The other girls laughed.

“Nice.” 

“Like what you said about the abs though.”

“Kohg--I mean, Kohla,” Maa’ra began. “Is this just a description of your voe…?”

“I mean… yes,” Kohga said. “What else is it supposed to be? He’s my DREAM MAN.” Kohga turned his notebook out to her and indicated the phrase which he had highlighted and starred several times. “Voe of my  _ dreams _ .”

“Certainly he can’t be perfect,” Maa’ra said.

“But he is!!”

“No one is perfect,” Maa’ra said again.

“Except Sooga.”

“Kohla,” Maa’ra said, sternly. “I’m sure your voe is wonderful. And I’m sure he is very precious to you. But literally no one is perfect. And in fact, putting him up on a pedestal like this and glorifying him to such an insane degree can only serve to hurt you in the long run. It’s probably hurting you in the short run, too, because your blind obsession with him prevents you from not only seeing his flaws and insecurities, but also keeps you from speaking with him like a normal human being.”

Kohga blinked. The other girls quieted as he stared. He was not used to being called out like this. And Kohga, as kingly chief of the Yiga Clan he was, was not one to think of long runs, nor even of running at all. The Yiga worked much better in sprints, not marathons, so they were hardly ever thinking in terms of the long run. But for her to insinuate that something might be amiss in the  _ short run,  _ too _ \-- _ well that, suddenly, was his problem.

“This exercise is supposed to help us consider lots of different things about the needs of our potential voe as well as about the needs of ourselves. Haven’t you ever considered anything else you want or need in your life? What are your long term goals?” she asked him.

Long term goals? Kohga frowned. Well. Aahahahaha. Well, those involved… serving Calamity Ganon and robbing the Gerudo. So he definitely couldn’t say those. But his  _ wants?  _ What were his wants? Food, sleep, alcohol, entertainment… and those were all covered by his tribe already. The only thing he wanted that he didn’t currently have was Sooga, and that was what he was here to get.

“Well, I mean... I get everything I want, inherently,” Kohga said. “That’s my job. I’m very important in the Yig-- _ Sheikah… _ clan.” He stopped at this and glanced around. Nobody seemed to have noticed. He carried on, regardless. “And so it’s everyone else’s job to take care of me. I never have to worry about my needs.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s very true at all.”

Kohga stared stupefied at her because he had no idea how to process that information. Maa’ra continued.

“So are you struggling because you’ve never had to think deeply about yourself before, and so you can’t move past very shallow, surface understandings of yourself and the world around you?” she asked. “Are you feeling a bit lost and directionless because others have pigeonholed you, you’ve pigeonholed yourself, and now you’re pigeonholing others? Has this prevented you from thinking critically about yourself, your identity, and even your likes, needs, and dislikes as a person?”

There was a long pause. Kohga felt like spiders were crawling up his skin. And he hated spiders. He hated spiders so, so much. Especially the kind that were crawling up his skin.

“That’s uh… that’s a lot to take in for the time being,” he said, quietly. “I’m uh… wow. That’s a lot ma’am. I’m seventeen.”

Some of the vai laughed, but Kohga was so tense he didn’t even notice.

“I know, Kohla. You’re young. And that’s okay! It’s normal for vai your age to think that way,” Maa’ra said. “That’s why it’s really important and  _ great  _ for you to be considering these kinds of things now. Voe and You is a class about boys and relationships, yes, but it’s also a class about YOU. Because we can’t get to know others if we first don’t know ourselves.”

A few of the more enthusiastic vai--the ones here to really get something out of the class--nodded in agreement. But a few clapped sarcastically at the absolutely “genius” and not at all cheesy piece of wisdom Maa’ra had just bestowed on them. Kohga, meanwhile, was still trying to process being told he had to think about something for longer than two seconds. He thought it sounded kind of bogus that he couldn’t know others if he didn’t know himself, but, then again, he had just gotten read to absolute filth. So maybe Maa’ra really knew what she was talking about here.

“Let’s look at this from another angle now, ladies. What are some things you think your  _ voe  _ needs? What special traits do you have that you can offer to him? Spoilers: these might be very similar to some of the things  _ you’ve  _ already written.”

In much a similar fashion, the ladies went around writing down and discussing things their voe probably would need.

“I’m kind.”

“I’m smart.”

“I’m really good at handling children.”

“I have rock-hard abs.”

“I’m good at cooking, and I like keeping things clean.”

“Pshh yeah. That’s just what he needs. Voe need somebody to do all the cooking and cleaning and even to dress them. Some voe are so useless on their own.”

“Well, no, but that’s good to talk about,” Maa’ra said, doing her best to spin their skepticism into a positive teachable moment. She was determined to be a very good teacher, you see.

“Any voe not willing to pull his own weight probably isn’t a very good voe to have. No one person should be doing all the work in the relationship, whether that be household chores or emotional labor. Love is a two-way street,” she said.

Kohga felt like he should write that down.  _ TWO-WAY STREET.  _ Better highlight and underline that one too.

“Kohla? What about you?”

Kohga looked down and realized that his page was blank. He’d been so distracted, and so stumped at thinking about how he had to think now that he hadn’t been able to write a single quality down.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t know what boys need… that’s why I’m taking the class…”

This struck a strange chord with him, considering he was a boy. You’d think he’d know what they need by now.

“Well, can you list any good qualities of yourself?”

Kohga furrowed his brow and looked back down at page. Well. He was  _ Kohga _ , after all, and that should be the only quality he needs. That was the best quality that existed. But he couldn’t exactly say that while he was wearing a veil and a crop top in Gerudo Town. Well, what else? He used to be really fast and runny and jumpy, and that used to be his best quality, but he supposed he was getting better at Giant Spikey Ball training, but this was something he couldn’t say, either. But something had better come out of his mouth fast.

“I can eat a FUCKLOAD of bananas in one sitting,” he said, at last.

“Great! Does that have any practical application?”

Kohga shrunk back down. Maybe also not a great thing to say. “...It’s highly valued in our culture.”

Maa’ra and the other vai knew very well what ‘his culture’ really was, but all of them chose not to let on. “Well, what are some good things about yourself that you think would make you a good partner?” she asked.

Kohga looked around for a moment. “I’m…” Kohga. He was Kohga. But he can’t say Kohga. Who was he outside of that? What was  _ anything _ he had outside of that at all?? 

“I don’t know.”

“Well, there has to be something!” Maa’ra said. “Come on girls, do you think you can help her out?”

Some of the girls rolled their eyes to each other. She was really asking them to list good qualities of  _ Kohga? _ After another moment or two, one of the braver, kinder souls spoke up.

“Well, you’re kinda cute,” she said, right before another vai next to her added, more quietly,  _ “Cute in a really stupid way…” _ A few of them giggled.

“Great, Yumi,” Maa’ra said, paying no mind to her detractor. “But we should try to get away from physical characteristics.”

“You’re funny,” another one said.

That was it. “I’M FUNNY,” Kohga repeated, loudly.

“That’s perfect! Having a good sense of humor can make you a great companion,” Maa’ra said. “It’s important that you can have a good time with your voe, and having a good sense of humor can even help cheer him up when he’s feeling down.”

Had he ever seen Sooga “down” before? Kohga thought about this for a moment, and then realized he hadn’t. He absolutely hadn’t ever seen Sooga be “down” in his life. He started to wonder if maybe that was a bad thing.

“See? Even if you can’t think of them right away, you all have lots of wonderful characteristics that would make you all excellent wives. Partners,” Maa’ra said, making another quick glance to Kohga. Kohga did not notice. 

“We’re starting to run short on time for today, and no homework, but I’d like you to keep considering what about you makes you special, what would make you a good partner, and what sorts of things you can offer your voe. As well as about what your voe would need to do to meet your own needs. I will see you all next week!” Maa’ra said, and Kohga and the other students started to head out the door. Kohga, of course, escorted out through the barracks.

That was certainly a lot to take in for the time being. Thank god there wasn’t any homework.

Later that week, Kohga did a lot of thinking in his napping spot, watching Sooga the way he always did. And the longer he thought about it, the more the question continued to egg him on. He decided to approach him about it.

“Hey Sooga,” he asked from beyond his fort of pillows.

“Yes?”

“What do you  _ need? _ ”

Sooga furrowed his brow, sheathing his blades and turning around to look at him. “...What?”

“What do you like,  _ NEED  _ need?”

Sooga continued to make a confused face. Kohga wasn’t making any indication like he wanted to clarify. “I don’t get what you’re asking,” Sooga said, finally.

“Like, I dunno. Theoretically,” Kohga said, getting up and walking around to distract himself. “If you were going to be in a relationship. What kind of things would you… want. Or need.”

“Oh,” Sooga said. “That’s an interesting question. Not something I think about a lot.” He paused, considering it. Kohga paused as well, looking on to him in suspense. “I suppose it’d be pretty basic. Your typical answers. I’d like someone I like to spend time with. Someone who could listen to me.”

Kohga nodded, thinking, but his head was empty and contained absolutely no thoughts. That certainly was not a lot to work with. “What sorts of things do you need listening to?” he asked.

Sooga shrugged. “Not a lot, actually. But I’m sure if something came up, I’d need it. But I guess that’s what friends are for. I haven’t thought a lot about relationships, honestly.”

"Gotcha. That’s chill.”

“Yeah.”

There was a long pause.

Well shit. Now what was keeping them from just remaining friends? A simple, totally platonic friendship could cover everything he supposedly  _ ‘needs....’ _

“Do you like spending time with me?” Kohga asked, kicking a small rock away toward the pit. He watched it roll there, not quite toward the edge, and looked back up at him and shrugged it off, platonically. “Unrelated.”

“Of course, Master Kohga. You’re one of the closest people to me.”

_ “DoYouLikeBoys?”  _ he blurted out. He froze. He put his hands over his mouth and backed up, only realizing after the fact that the words had escaped while Sooga continued to stare. Kohga scrambled to sweep  _ that one  _ under the rug in a heartbeat.

“I mean. We never really talked about it,” he said. He went back over to his pillow fort and aggressively arranged and rearranged his blankets in a desperate attempt to distract himself. “But I... I don’t know. I’m sorry. Kinda weird. Lol.”

Sooga shrugged, paying absolutely no mind to Kohga’s sudden weirdness. If he was being honest, he hadn’t really noticed it at all. Kohga had just looked a little bit frantic for a second, but then extra cozy, so he assumed everything was fine. “I have no preference,” he said. “I guess it’s the person to me. Not the body.”

_ SICK, _ Kohga thought. At least he was good there, then. But he could promptly feel all the blood still rushing to his face, and he scurried away yelling about how he’d forgotten something in his room, or something. Sooga thought he could have gone to get it for him, but waited patiently for him to get back.

The next few weeks progressed steadily, with Kohga learning all sorts of interesting tips and tricks about talking to voe. Smile, laugh a little. Bat your eyes and play with your hair. Do your makeup! Practice self-care. They even had a cooking class in there at one point. But overall, these all sounded like incredibly girly things, and so he wasn’t sure how well it would work considering he was a voe… but he had to play a vai, currently, and so he played along.

When they returned to class that week, Maa’ra again asked if anyone had any voe-ish success stories to share. Yumi practically sprung up on her toes, raising her hand and waving it around madly. She did not wait to be called on before speaking. 

“My voe asked me out on a date!!” she said. The room filled with happy and surprised faces of the vai around her. She shrunk back, suddenly less confident. “At least, I think so. He asked if I’d like to get dinner. So I think…”

Maa’ra nodded. _“_ That sounds like a good sign to me. _Aíva zhaq’ao!_ Congratulations, Yumi!” she said. “Are you excited?”

She nodded. “Yes. But I’m also very nervous.”

“Well, I think this lesson will prove to be very timely and informative for you,” Maa’ra said. “Anyone else?”

Even though no one else really had any other news, Kohga was frustrated. Because he  _ never  _ had any news. It had been weeks now, and he didn’t have a single thing to share, even though plenty of others now had a voe who had talked to them or smiled in their general direction or pick up their books after they artificially dropped them. When was  _ his turn  _ to stand up and wave his arms around and be applauded by the class? This certainly was much more difficult than footsoldier training.

Maa’ra paced to the side of the classroom, eagerly scooting over to a curtain near the wall, which was an obvious poor attempt to conceal their next class-ly endeavor. “Today, we’re going to practice encountering voe in some real-life--well, fake real-life scenarios,” she said, pulling back the curtain and revealing a small line of wooden dummies--like scarecrows--on the other side. “Say hello to your voe!”

The girls in the room were quiet. They stared at the strange, poorly slapped-together dummies Maa’ra paraded to them, especially at the straw hairs and eyes and lips hastily drawn with different shades of Maa’ra’s lipstick. She saw their expressions, looked back to the “voe” in their real light, and gave a sheepish sort of smile. “Please excuse the budget. I’m saving up for some… better resources.”

“Can we just practice on each other instead?”

“No. I spent too much money on these for you to ignore them,” Maa’ra said. Some of the vai rolled their eyes. “You’re going to practice on these voe. Alright, vai. Let’s get to it.”

Maa’ra led the class through some exercises. Stating your name to you voe, some things you are interested in. Kohga was getting better at this, as they’d made several lists of likes and dislikes in class. For the more adventurous, they moved on to practice conversations--even asking a voe out on a date.

And, with his pressing need to excel at everything--still trying to fill the void from his footsoldier days, when he was the best in class at everything--Kohga wanted to try his hand at telling Sooga he liked him.

So after Yumi had practiced saying, “Thank you very much for dinner. I had a great time today,” over and over and over again, and had sufficiently rehearsed what to do if her voe offered to pay, Kohga sauntered up to the mannequin, where Yumi then stood puppeteering behind it. He cleared his throat and stared back into its blank, unfeeling eyes.

“Sooga, I--” he stopped. His throat closed up. Now he was distracted by just now  _ not  _ like Sooga it looked. It was white, made of rags. Stuffed with straw and shoved together on a broomstick, altogether lacking muscle and form and gentle, caring eyes. Just two mismatched buttons tacked on just off-center, and a red smear of lipstick masquerading as a mouth.

“What is it, Kohla?” Yumi said from behind the ragdoll, doing her best to mimic a voe and moving it around to give it the illusion of speech.

“I hate this. Can we start over?”

“Sure.”

Kohga backed up and approached the mannequin again, this time taking a good, firm stamp into the earth and a flick of his hair the way he always used to before and after a flawless execution.

“Sooga, I wanna talk--” urp. Start again.  _ “IWannaTalkT’YouAboutSomething--” _

“Sure? What is it?” Yumi said again.

“I--” Kohga winced, drawing the  _ “I”  _ out as he squirmed in a bit of pain. He moved past it.  _ “Liiiiiiiiikeeee _ you? Like, like-like you… ALOTASAFRIEND.” He put his hand over his mouth again.

“Oh. Thank you, Kohla. I like--”

“Fuck. No. Start again,” Kohga said, turning around and shaking himself. He turned back around again. “Sooga, I--no. Fuck.”

He spun around without warning, letting out a cry of frustration and twisting one foot over himself and kicking off the head of a nearby mannequin. Thankfully, not the one that was supposed to be Sooga. The pile of rags went flying and nearly hit Maa’ra head-on. Kohga stopped and realized what he’d done as Maa’ra approached.

“Kohla, is this rather difficult for you?” she asked, stooping down to retrieve the head, poorly trying to fit it back on to its dismembered body. Kohga sighed.

“Yes…” Why couldn’t they skip all this training and get to the part where he and Sooga were smooching already? That was the only part that mattered…

“Well, let’s not work yourself up into a stress. Kicking the heads off voe is probably not the move,” Maa’ra said. “Let’s go back to those basics. Start with a few positive affirmations. What do we say to ourselves before we approach a voe?”

Kohga took a moment to re-center himself, recalling the words they’d said in class. “I am a confident, dazzling, and courageous vai ready to take on the world of voe.”

“Good. Say it a few more times until you believe it.”

Kohga repeated it until he was feeling good.

“Excellent. So what about this is troubling you so greatly?”

“I just can’t say it,” Kohga said. 

“Why not?” Maa’ra asked.

“It’d be weird.”

“Howso? Feeling emotions is normal.”

“What if I ruin it?” Kohga asked.

“Ruin what?”

Kohga stopped. What  _ was  _ he worried about ruining, exactly? Well, really, their entire relationship and everything at stake there, as well as the rest of his life. “He’s my bodyguard,” Kohga said. “So I have to be around him constantly. So it’d be awkward if… yeah.”

“Ah, I see,” Maa’ra said. “So you’re worried that if you say something, it will alter your relationship?”

“YES. EXACTLY,” Kohga said.

“But don’t you want to alter your relationship?”

“Yes but not like that!!”

“I know I know!” Yumi chimed in from behind them. “You should fake your own death. Or a life-or-death scenario. And then your voe comes valiantly to your rescue, and just when you are within inches of your own life, he realizes how much he loves you. And so he confesses his feelings, and you kiss, and--”

“Yumi, faking your own death is not a good thing,” Maa’ra said. “That could be very manipulative and traumatic.”

“But it’s so  _ romantic.” _

“Life is not like it is in novels and plays. In real life, that sucks,” Maa’ra said. “Let’s not have Kohla faking her own death. None of you please ever do that.” She looked back around the rest of the class to make sure they heard. “Kohga-- _ Kohla, _ ” she said, turning back to him. “What’s the worst that could happen if you tell your voe?”

“It makes it really incredibly awkward and he never speaks to me again.”

Maa’ra nodded, but mostly disregarded what he’d said. “And what’s the best?”

“He sweeps me up in his arms and takes me right there.”

The other vai laughed. Maa’ra did her best not to do the same.

“Okay… so. Most human reactions will fall somewhere in-between.”

Kohga crossed his arms and pouted. Any reaction that wasn’t immediately positive was a bad reaction in his book. And that left much more room for the negative than the positive. Maa’ra could see his frustration.

“Well, keep working on it, Kohla. Just remember your affirmations, think positive. But please don’t fake your own death.”

But Kohga was hellbent on having something to tell the class next week. So when he got back from class, the next day, when he knew Sooga would be coming back from drills, he pumped himself up in the mirror all afternoon. He put on mascara but then took it off, remembering that he didn’t have to be a vai now. He did use some very subtle lip gloss though, just in case. He remembered what Maa’ra had told him.  _ Think positive. It could go better than you expect. _

Maybe it would all work out.

Kohga jumped up and down, doing a few kicks and pumping himself up the way he used to before a footsoldier exam. Because this  _ was  _ an exam, and he was going to get graded on all the applause and accolades he received from his classmates when he  _ finally  _ told them he’d confessed his love for Sooga, and now they were happily, wholly, and un-platonically dating.  _ ‘Wow, you are absolutely the best, Kohga,’  _ they would say.  _ ‘Nobody else in the whole world can match your voe-ish abilities. We are all floored by your superior greatness. Please teach this class next semester.’  _ Except they would say Kohla, because they didn’t know his name was Kohga.

Sooga would be getting back from drills soon. It was go-time. He looked at himself up and down in the mirror, gave out a warrior’s battle cry, and repeated his positive affirmations.

“I am a confident, dazzling and courageous vai ready to take on the world of voe. I am a confident, dazzling, and courageous vai ready to take on the world of voe. I AM A CONFIDENT, DAZZLING, AND COURAGEOUS VAI READY TO TAKE ON THE WORLD OF VOE--!!”

“Master Kohga?”

His heart stopped. He glanced to the side and realized Sooga was standing there in the mirror behind him. His makeup was still out on the dresser.

“I’m--trying to get into Gerudo Town again,” Kohga said, quietly. He shrunk down and averted eye contact, feeling all the blood rush to his face--thankful, at least, he wouldn’t turn bright red.

“Oh. Do you want help doing your makeup?”

“NO THANKS I’LL DO IT LATER,” Kohga said, picking all the makeup up and shoving it back into the drawer. He scurried back out of his room because it was time to take his nap, feeling very much like he was not, in fact, a confident, dazzling or courageous vai, and he was certainly not ready to take on the world of voe.


	24. Astor and Thelem Hide in the Closet Eating Communion Wafers Hoping Azelphir Doesn’t Catch Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on another god-tier conversation i had with takemetotheastral. these boys are out here living out my catholic school dream

Astor’s job in the abbey as assistant to Azelphir involved him keeping track of all the ritual supplies. There were several closets full of them--one in the foyer, a small one just outside the chapel, one outside the sanctum, and the largest one, the sacristy, behind the chapel itself.

One portion of these supplies were boxes full of small, biscuit-like wafers made out of wheat and rice that the abbey used in particular ceremonies. They were often distributed one to each person along with a communal goblet they all drank from. This was done at Compline, the day’s ending ceremony, and symbolized their unity with Fate and with one another as a community. Each eating together and drinking from the same cup, they said, oriented them toward a similar goal, which was important in doing the work of the Vespers, their holiest set of divination prayers.

But, of course, because each person could only have one a day, it was natural that the younger students got curious, and somewhat addicted to them, even if they weren’t particularly good. The biscuits were mostly dry and un-noteworthy, tasting particularly of unsalted bread. But, like any other forbidden fruit, children--teenagers especially--always wanted what they could not have.

It was just that they were so perfectly  _ round _ , so  _ irresistibly  _ flat and round and oh-so-satisfying to crunch. Because it wasn’t quite a crunch, but not quite a soft, flat, melt-in-your-mouth sensation, either. The feeling itself was somewhere in-between, and it was simply so addictive to wrap your mouth around one just as it was so perfectly designed to do, bite down, and  _ crunch. _

So that was why all the students in the abbey craved the communion wafers more than a small child craved sugary sweets. It was about the  _ crunch _ .

Astor developed his addiction accidentally. One day Azelphir was going through their stock of these ritual wafers and asked Astor to check the dates on the boxes and toss the ones that were going too stale. But, in the interest of saving money, Azelphir told him to taste a few out of the boxes that were only a month or so old, and, if they were passable, to keep them around for a couple months more. It was impossible to tell which ones were stale, however, considering they all tasted stale already.

Ever since then, after having eaten what was surely close to half a sleeve’s worth of the things in one sitting, Astor had gotten into the habit of nabbing one or two off the dish when he was setting them out for Compline. Then when he was putting them away. Then when he was checking in the sacristy for their candles, getting other jars of holy water off of the shelves. But what else was he supposed to do? The boxes were open, and they were  _ right there _ . It was only one or two every now and then, so there was no way Azelphir would notice.

But one day, a couple students were in the foyer while he was going through the closet. They saw him as he slipped his hand absentmindedly into the sleeve, bring one up to his lips, and...  _ crunch _ . Astor hadn’t even noticed he’d done it. Not until the three of them were up on top of him, demanding he share.

Astor, now literally backed into a corner, knew he had no choice but to oblige. And so he became the unofficial black-market wafer-dealer to all the students in the abbey.

This clearly was not a position he wanted to have, but they would all come up to him when Azelphir wasn’t looking and demand the goods. They learned Astor’s schedule so they knew when best to get him alone. And so Astor was extorted out of these church wafers simply because he was physically incapable of saying no. But as long as he was very careful about the boxes he took them from, surely Azelphir wouldn’t notice a few more had gone missing with each progressing day.

Azelphir noticed.

But he didn’t notice because he was keeping careful track of the stock--that was Astor’s job. He noticed because the students weren’t slick. He’d see them huddle together and distribute them amongst themselves. He started to swat the students away when he’d see them do it, but after it persisted, he thought it best to consult with the Prior.

“Thelem,” Azelphir said, coming into his office one day. He didn’t have a tendency to knock on Thelem’s door, he just sort of barged in. Thelem was standing away from the door, glancing out to the trees in the courtyard. 

“The novices are eating the communion tack and--”

“Hm?” Thelem said. He turned to him, just having finished sliding one into his mouth. Azelphir’s eyes fell to the small dish of wafers he had on his desk.

“Oh my god Thelem.”

“What? They’re good,” Thelem said.

“We need them for  _ ceremonies _ .”

“Well, now we’ll be extra holy.”

“You are a disgrace,” Azelphir said, snatching the dish up from him and pulling it away before Thelem could react. “Stop eating them, and tell the others to stop doing it as well. There will be  _ consequences _ .”

Azelphir scuttled out the door with the biscuits and Thelem raised his eyebrow. Azelphir may be the one in charge of discipline, but he was the one in charge of the abbey. He’d make sure the others stopped, but nothing stopped him from nabbing one or two every now and then.

A few weeks passed and it seemed that the communion wafer fever had at last been sweated out. But nothing, truly, would ever sate their insatiable hunger for these incredibly underwhelming and wildly overrated rice biscuits.

But then he caught them. As Azelphir was making his way past the chapel, where Astor was polishing the candle sconces on the altar, heard a quite distinctive rummaging noise coming from within the sacristy. A crinkle of foil wrapping, a tearing of cardboard, and...  _ crunch _ . 

Anger flared up in the pit of his stomach. He turned the corner and glided into the chapel, marching right toward Astor, who immediately put his head down and pretended not to be there.

_ “Boy! _ ” he yelled. “It was you! Who are you letting--”

Azelphir turned and swung open the door. Thelem was standing there with an entire box of wafers in his hands.

_ “Thelem!! _ ”

“Alright, you caught me,” he said, putting his arms up in arrest.

“I’m revoking your privileges, all of you,” Azelphir said, snatching the box from Thelem and moving to the shelf, where he piled on as many of the boxes into his arms as he could carry. “These are going in a special place in my office that only I will know about, and they are to be held  _ tightly  _ under lock and key. Only  _ I  _ handle the communion wafers now, thank you” he said, storming back out into the hall as he called out behind him.

Thelem and Astor stood there and watched as Azelphir scuttled out of the chapel doors, his dark cloak billowing angrily behind him. After another moment or two passed in silence, with the shelves of wafers now stripped bare, Thelem reached into the pocket of his cloak and procured a sleeve of the biscuits he’d tucked inside. He passed them to Astor. Without so much as making eye contact, Astor took one out of the package and slid it into his mouth. 

_ Crunch. _


	25. Yiga Clan Karaoke Night 3: They Try to Get Astor to Participate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lets go girls

Once again on Thursday night, the Yiga Clan was getting drunk and partying. Astor was trying to forget that he exists.

Kohga had really taken a liking to breaking into Gerudo Town, and his music and clothing styles were starting to reflect this. He began to include drag as a portion of the festivities. All dolled up in mascara and rhinestones, Kohga stood up on the table, bumped up the music, put the microphone to his lips and said,

“Let’s go girls.”

The music started blaring. Astor had the quaint misfortune of knowing exactly what was going on on the other side of the walls, both because he was all-seeing prophet, and also because Kohga had been rehearsing it all week. A gaudy rendition of Shania Twain’s  _ “Man! I Feel Like a Woman! _ ,” one of the half a million or more songs they’d discovered in the Sheikah jukebox. Go totally crazy. Forget I’m a lady.

Men’s shirts, short skirts.

Astor groaned.

But after his performance--after all the feathers and rhinestones went flying--Kohga had a brilliant idea.

A small army of Yiga soldiers showed up at Astor’s door and barged their way inside.

They’d actually tried to do this before--this is why Astor had taken to barricading the door with books and furniture. But as they pried it open and began to climb over the pile, moving directly toward him, Astor panicked and shot out a Hollow from the astrolabe.

It was Hollow Link.

The Hollow began slashing at them with its sword, at least pushing them back into the hallway. Astor reinforced the barricade on the door and slipped back inside, letting the Hollow finish its business as it pleased.

But Hollow Link, after all, contained the essence of Link himself. And after a moment, when the music had not subsided and had in fact gotten louder, Astor tentatively cracked the door and peered out in the hall, seeing no commotion but still hearing the music from the great room. 

He glimpsed into the astrolabe, fearful for what he would find, when he discovered Hollow Link now donning a Gerudo veil, standing up on the table with Kohga. Hollow Link could not speak, of course, as Link himself barely did. But there were never any rules against lip-syncing, and they were on to Britney Spears.


	26. The Order of the Seers Adopts a Dog, but the Dog also Happens to be the World’s First Rabies Survivor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BlacKat_Arukoiya really made me see the fucking light with this one. credit to them and their galaxy brain making me realize what the order of the seers was truly lacking was a ratty ass feral dog.
> 
> also this takes place in the good universe where thelem and azelphir are married

Astor’s fascination with dead things had never really left him since he was a child, he just learned not to poke and prod at dead things because dead things can carry disease. So imagine his surprise one day when he poked and prodded at a dead thing and it started poking and prodding back.

It had been Astor’s turn to take some trash out to the bin where workers from Castle Town would come to collect it later in the week. But as he lifted the top and hoisted the bags of garbage up over the side, his eyes fell to a mangled heap of skin and fur lodged between the bin and the fence. It looked too large to be a rat, but, then again, he wasn’t sure how big the rats in Caste Town were known for getting. Perhaps an oversized possum who had taken a turn for the worse while scrounging their trash late at night? But the fur looked wrong…

Perplexed by the object, Astor glanced around him for anything he could turn it over with. Just to get a better look at what sort of poor, half-eaten creature it was. He snagged a thin branch off a nearby shrub and approached the body carefully, knowing now to keep his distance as there could be all sorts of fleas and other pests feasting off the dead flesh.

But as he moved in to prod the creature--going in for where it appeared to curl so he could perhaps push it up to see its face--the animal shook awake and bit reflexively on the stick. Astor screamed and jumped back, dropping the stick immediately, but the animal instead stood there and snarled, shaking the stick violently back and forth in its mouth until a smaller piece snapped off, at which point it dropped the stick and took off running, snarling, and gurgling past him. Astor darted back further to avoid being caught in its fire, and it disappeared around the corner to somewhere else unknown.

It was a dog. A horrifyingly ugly, disgustingly disease-ridden dog.

Astor stood there and gathered himself, smoothing his robes back out and staring off in the direction the creature went. He was thankful, at least, it hadn’t gone for him, but he worried it would come across someone else in the abbey. And he had no idea where it could have run off to. He just decided to warn a few people he ran into that day and maybe advise Thelem or Azelphir to set out some rat poison.

“No, we can’t have _rat poison_ ,” Thelem said, shocked at the insinuation. “We have to _protect it.”_

“Are you insane?” Azelphir asked. “It probably has all sorts of disease.”

“It just needs someone to love and care for it.”

“And it will spread mange to everyone in the abbey,” Azelphir said. “We’re lucky we’ve been rid of it. It probably went off to die.”

Thelem objected to any sort of defensive maneuvers against the animal, especially when it might bring harm to Fate’s other little creatures, but Azelphir set out some blocks of poison when Thelem wasn’t looking.

So imagine his surprise when he was walking through the courtyard the next day and found the dog there, eating them.

Azelphir stopped when he saw the creature--Astor really hadn’t been exaggerating when he said it looked like it had tried to gnaw its own skin off. At this point, it was mostly hairless--with rough, uneven tufts of curly fur still left around its paws and face. It was dark, covered in sores and bite marks, and the sharp ridges of its spine and ribs were visible poking up from under its skin. Its tail looked like a miserable, dried out string of flesh--oddly with a few tufts of fur still clinging on for dear life--and it looked back up at him with large, milky-white cataracts that made him wonder if it could even see at all.

Thelem turned the corner just as Azelphir and the creature stood there staring at one another, the dog having just crunched another hunk of poison between its teeth. It retched and spat it out, but promptly started licking at it again. Thelem put his arms up and smiled.

_ "He lives!!” _

The dog stopped as Thelem began to approach it, but did not immediately growl or run away. But as Thelem started to reach down to pick it up, it started making the same hybrid snarling, gurgling sounds it had been making to Astor.

_ "Thelem what the hell are you--”  _ Azelphir said, but Thelem already had the dog in its arms. And while it was thrashing and growling, it also didn’t seem aggressive enough to attack him. Just… seizing up a lot. Thelem hugged it closer to him.

“Look honey, he likes me.”

Nothing about that dog seemed at all capable of liking anyone at all.

_ “Thelem, put that thing back down or so help me--” _

Azelphir was now trying to pry the dog away from his husband’s arms, but also quite hesitant to make contact with it in case it did carry some sort of infectious disease. But the dog managed to pry its way out of  _ both  _ of their hands, toppling to the ground and stumbling over its own feet, before standing up and looking back up at them, wagging its shriveled tail ferociously.

“Azel, we have to keep it.”

“No we absolutely do  _ not.” _

“He lives here now.”

Thelem went to pick up the dog again, but this time it latched on to his sleeve and hung there by its teeth, still making the snarling and gurgling sounds that--while aggressive-sounding--did not so much seem to mean aggression as they were its general state of being. They both tried to shake it off of him, but the dog simply would not budge--its jaw had a sort of deathlock to rival that of much fiercer predators.

Thelem took the dog the next day to get its health checked in Castle Town by the local veterinarian. The vet and other nurses were shocked to see such a creature even still alive--they saw better-looking pets in the operating room. It reeked of sweat and dried blood, and upon closer inspection, they realized that its dark color was actually just attributed to built-up dirt. With some scrubbing, they realized the dog was actually white, maybe with a few black spots--just near-impossible to get clean.

The dog was… alive. They weren’t sure if it was  _ fine, _ but its vitals were all positive, so they assumed it was at least living. Somehow. 

It had clearly been through a swarm of infections, serious illnesses, had severe cataracts but seemed to have decent enough vision. Was currently covered in fleas, had yellowish crust and mucus accumulating around its eyes and inside its ears, and overall looked like it should have died by now. But it acted healthy and seemed healthy, despite evidence to the contrary, and so they prescribed a few ointments for the lesions on its skin and an ear drop to fight further infections.

Thelem brought the dog back to the abbey and got it acquainted to everyone. He let it walk in and out of their prayer services as it pleased--save for the Vespers in the sanctum, in which it would scratch at the door until they all came out. He set out several dishes of dog food scattered throughout the place to ensure he’d always have somewhere to eat if he got hungry, or in case he got lost. Azelphir thought this was a certain way to bring in rats, but it looked like they were keeping one as a pet already.

The dog did not know how to behave. It didn’t seem to be properly socialized--it probably grew up on the street--so while it was used to people and did not seem aggressive, despite how it thrashed and snarled, it just acted very erratically. It wasn’t all there, and it was very, very stupid.

It loved to gnaw and tear at things, so finding itself in the midst of a fiber arts cult was something like being sent to heaven. For the first few days, it would latch on to the bottom of peoples’ robes, particularly Thelem’s, and not let off until it was dragged by its teeth through the entire abbey. It nipped and hung off the tassels of their curtains and tapestries, including those tied on their robes, which earned in the name Tassel, which eventually stuck. That was, when the students weren’t busy calling it Dish Towel, because it frequently found itself in the sink and would rub itself all over the dirty dishes.

Astor liked Tassel, even if he, like everyone else, was also afraid of it. He was mostly just shocked to see it alive. But, then again, so was everyone else. Thelem doted on the dog unconditionally as he would a human child, and even started spending hours in the textile shop weaving tiny replica, completely-up-to-code Seer’s robes for it. Maybe that would help to keep its scrawny, hairless body a little less cold.

Tassel barked and snarled and gurgled at anyone entering the abbey, exiting, or really at any time at all. The sound was concerning--it constantly sounded like it was choking, or perhaps drowning in its own spit. But the vets assured them his breathing was normal. It was just, for some reason, how this dog thought dogs were supposed to communicate.

The students made fun of it, but especially after a week of seeing it hobble around in the adorable mini Seer’s robes--leaving a pointed, uneven,  _ taptaptaptaptaptap  _ patter of its nails against the floor as it went--they all at least accepted it as one of them.

Azelphir begrudgingly got used to the dog, who had sidled up to him very quickly, seeing as Azelphir’s work often involved removing bones and gutting things. It would sit on its hind legs right next to the table, hacking and wheezing and tail flailing wildly while Azelphir was trying to read, and Azelphir would toss it a spare sliver of meat or offal when he was finished to keep it occupied. Maybe a whole bone if it behaved. Tassel started to learn this, and eagerly followed Azelphir around for all the bloodiest, goriest of treats.

Azelphir grew even closer to the dog one evening when thieves attempted to rob the abbey and Tassel went into a blind fury, latching on to the hands of one of the thieves before they escaped, nearly taking off his fingers, making the set of thieves quite easy to identify and apprehend within the following day. They had to be careful from that point on, however, to make sure it knew that not every stranger who came into the abbey was a thief.

The longer it stayed there, it became surprisingly affectionate. Thelem would leave their door cracked and Tassel would hobble in at night, hopping up onto the bed and going directly to sleep on Azelphir’s side. Other people in the abbey started cracking their doors as well, on occasion waking up to the pleasant (or unpleasant) surprise of having Tassel at their feet giving the tiniest bites at their toes or ankles that seemed not so much like gnawing as it was its toothy way to say hello.

Cuddling with it while half-asleep and tossing scraps to it during the day, Azelphir then became not only close with, but defensive of the dog. Moreso than he would like to admit, even though it was obvious to everyone else. If he caught students snickering at it or making “Dish Towel” remarks, he swatted them away. He started to pick it up and hold it and even baby-talk to it when he thought no one was looking, even though Thelem had caught him once or twice. 

On one such day, Azelphir had let Tassel up onto the reading table, and Tassel had been on his very best weird-dog behavior. As a treat, he decided to let Tassel have at one of the rabbits he’d opened for the reading. He tossed it to the ground and Tassel perked up, looking eagerly down to where the rabbit thudded on to the floor. He turned his head completely to one side, then the other, still snarling a bit, but not immediately jumping for the carcass. He instead looked to Azelphir for further instruction. Azelphir nodded and pointed down at the meal.

“Go get it,” he said. Tassel, wagging its poor little tail so frantically that he was really just shaking his entire body, hopped down from the table before face-planting a little bit--but that was normal for him--and dug his face into the open stomach of the rabbit. He started snarling and grunting, feasting and slurping on the poor creature louder and louder.

“That’s it, who’s my good boy?” Azelphir said. “Who’s my vicious little predator? Who’s my handsome bloodthirsty little man--? You get it. You kill it. You tear into its guts and limbs--”

Thelem was standing near the doorway, but said nothing, as Azelphir did not see him. Azelphir then lifted the dog to his face and saw it covered in bile and blood with the strings of a torn artery hanging loose from its mouth and he scrunched up his nose, making cute little snuggly faces at it. Tassel wiggled and snarled in return, knowing he must have done a particularly good job at gutting and goring. 

Thelem was so happy to have not only a shy, anxious goth son, but also a scary goth husband, and, most of all, a very rabid and infested dog.


	27. In Which Kohga Accurately Predicts the Existence and Location of the One-Hit Obliterator, and Yet Nobody Believes Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a theory/headcanon for the fic that the yiga are culturally more similar to the sheikah from 10,000 years ago than the current sheikah are, so this is a play on that. in theory, the monks in the shrines are also total dunces

Kohga was eerily, accurately, and one-hundred-percent correct-edly right about one thing in his entire life. And, much like the Greek prophet Cassandra from another reality, he was cursed so that no one would ever believe him.

One night he had one of the wickedest dreams he’d ever had in his life. He found himself in a dark cave, almost like a shrine, with ancient architecture that he recognized to be that of his Sheikah ancestors. As he stepped forward, he saw a strange, glowing object on a pedestal. It was a one-handed weapon, like a trident, but shorter, and with four prongs instead of three. So perhaps it was more like a quad...rent.

Reaching toward it, he felt an eerie coolness and a tingling shiver shot through his spine. He suddenly felt electrified--the dream seemed realer than real. But when his hand made contact with it, he was overwhelmed with a searing heat that burned up his forearm and into his chest. He fell to his knees and thought that he had dropped the weapon, but it would not leave his hand.

When the burning stopped--when he felt he was just within inches of his own life--a voice called out to him from above. Kohga knew it was one of his ancestors.

“I am Maz Koshia,” the voice said. It stopped. There was a long hesitation. In fact, Kohga almost would have described it as an awkward silence, and the tension was so pressed it seemed as if the voice was trying to deduce something. He thought he’d lost hold of it, but then it continued. 

“The weapon you hold is the One-Hit Obliterator. It is built to destroy foes with a single hit. But the reverse is also true. The wielder will fall to a single strike.”

“You mean if I get hit I die?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god. But I can kill anything with it?”

“...Yes.”

Kohga did a little wiggle in glee. “Oooh my god this is so sick,” he said, swinging it around and pointing it upwards in his grandest warrior stance. It wasn’t nearly as graceful as a sickle or his demon carver, but he knew he’d have fun wacking the hell out of shit regardless. Kohga turned, still looking for the disembodied voice of his great-great ancestor.

“Hey gramps,” he said.

“I am not your grandfather,” Maz Koshia replied.

Kohga paused, frowning. He was still trying to gather his surroundings. He saw a strange sort of flower-shaped vessel with leaves and glowing veins hanging on the ceiling above him, suspended over a glistening pool of water. “Where the hell am I?” he asked.

“I cannot disclose that information to you.”

Kohga frowned again. But somehow, the dream was so vivid now that he knew the place was real, and in fact was called the Shrine of Resurrection. Maz Koshia seemed to pick up on this.

The voice hesitated again, but then cut in one last time before finally cutting out. “This is just a dream. Nothing in it is real. Have fun.”

Kohga felt the presence leave him. He was staring outward to the exit of the shrine, feeling the crushing weight and absolute power of the otherworldly weapon in his hand.

He took off running into the great unknown.

As he came bolting full-speed out of the shrine--at one point having to scale a small wall which he wasn’t exactly equipped for--he came out into a large clearing on an overhang where he could see the entire kingdom of Hyrule before him. He stopped to admire the scenery for a moment, feeling he had the power of a god.

While he stood overlooking the landscape, he noticed the moon that hung above him. The sky was starless, in a quite unnatural way, and an eerie mist surrounded the entire forest. But when he turned and saw the Temple of Time, he realized he was on the Great Plateau.

What the _hell?_ This scene was so strange. But he knew it was real. Despite what that grandpa had said, he knew there was a Shrine of Resurrection on the Great Plateau in his actual waking reality. It was a feeling he had right in the very pit of his soul.

And then he saw the bokoblin camp down below.

Kohga started running toward the camp, tripping on himself and stumbling down the cliff, which immediately caused him to black out and reappear outside of the Shrine. It was just a dream, but he knew he had died. He rushed down the hill again, tits to the wind--this time much more careful to watch his step--and ran right into the camp screaming a battle cry. The bokoblins lit their torches and killed him. He reappeared outside the shrine.

Every time he did it, he knew he had died, but he had never felt so alive. He hadn’t felt this alive since perfecting the triple-jackhammer double-handed mighty banana aceflip--a move which he had invented single-handedly--and, considering he was Kohga now, that had been a _while_ ago.

He made the most of this opportunity. Sooga and the others would never allow him to run around this much during the day.

Kohga continued in this way for a while, running screaming into camps, getting hit, and respawning, until he grew tired of dying and wanted to try some real strategy in it. Relying once again on his old acrobatics--which he was flawless at, naturally, but even more flawless at considering it was a dream--he managed to outwit and outpace many of the poor bokoblins. None of them even stood a chance. He squared off against a lynel at one point, which he died to several times. But he even took down a _guardian_. A guardian! This thing was incredible!

He had to have it in real life.

After getting a bit too overzealous killing the lynel again, and a whole camp of moblins and bokoblins--a couple of whom were on horses--the weapon suddenly flew from Kohga’s hand and he shot up in bed, accidentally throwing his arm outward over Sooga.

 _“SOOGA,_ ” he yelled, shaking him awake. But Sooga was already awake, seeing as he’d just been elbowed in the face. And in that time, he had already spun out of bed and sprung up into action, reaching for his blades.

“Yes, Master Kohga,” he said.

“No Sooga I’m not dying,” Kohga said quickly. “There’s no night demons. I’m fine.”

“Ah. Okay,” Sooga said, setting the weapon back down.

“I just had the most amazing dream.”

That morning, Kohga was talking about it to the entire Yiga Clan. And while many of them agreed it was quite wicked, there was no way such a weapon was real. Even if it had been revealed to him by one of their great-great-great-great-great-great ancestors.

“No guys it’s really real I know it is,” Kohga said, desperately. “We gotta have it. We need to go get it. It’s on the Great Plateau.”

“What--?” some of them said.

“In the Shrine of Resurrection.”

“The _what?!_ ”

“It’s an ancient special secret shrine that the bootlickers are hiding from us. We gotta go get it. We gotta. It is our _birthright_.”

“Sure, Kohga,” they said. The sarcasm was evident in their voices.

“No really please.”

“No.”

“It’s an _ancestral relic!_ An ancient Sheikah monk revealed it to me in a dream.”

“Ok Kohga.”

Kohga pouted and pleaded, but no one--absolutely no one--would take him seriously, even though he was the chief. He was very close to making a chiefly edict about it regardless, and demanding some people at least go scout out the shrine.

“Master Kohga,” Sooga said, picking up and carrying him aside after another tantrum. He set the poor chief down around the corner and handed him a few snacks to appease him. “I know this weapon is very important to you. But perhaps it is too dangerous for us. What would we do with a weapon that could kill with one hit?”

“UH. Kill a bunch of stuff with it. Duh.”

“But it could kill you too,” Sooga said. The words were gentle, but stern, and Kohga could see that this concern transcended that of only being his bodyguard. “In one hit. Imagine. The wrong hands got ahold of it or you tripped and fell and died. You’re not in a dream anymore. This isn’t a game. We can’t afford to lose you.”

Kohga stared at him, starting to slip back into that familiar trance again. Sooga did not notice.

“Or, at the very least, I will not allow us to lose you,” he said again. But, putting a hand on Kohga’s shoulder, something in Sooga’s words came off more as, _‘I cannot afford to lose you.’_ That moment sank deep into the two of them, but Sooga did not remain there, however, perhaps unaware of just how deeply it resounded. “I’d never live down the guilt if you died,” he said.

Kohga’s eyes were wide. They reflected a glimmering tearfulness that came upon him every time he heard Sooga speak, and _especially_ when Sooga said something unfathomably kind like this. Sooga thought this was just the look Master Kohga gave people when he was paying attention. Kohga snapped out of his trance and shook the butterflies out of his head.

“Well, okay. Maybe _I_ wouldn’t wield it, but--”

“It’s too dangerous to be in your presence,” Sooga said, firmly. “Even if it is real, I’m not allowing it anywhere near you. I’m putting my foot down.”

Kohga was frustrated. Even though he had a very visceral, tangible urge to say _‘Awwww, really??’_ at Sooga’s word, he also disliked Sooga’s word, because it meant he couldn’t have the weapon. Sooga could sense his frustration.

“Maybe you can see it in your dreams again, someday.”

“Yeah I hope,” Kohga said. “But I at least gotta go check with Astor to see if it’s real.”

Astor happened to be coming down the hall that moment, drawn out by all the commotion he could hear happening outside. He was hastily dressed in his hood and robe, hair still tied up for sleep, and carrying a small cup of black coffee he was about half a nanosecond away from pouring directly onto someone’s face. It was much, _much_ too early for this.

“What the hell are you all on about?” he asked.

 _“Astor,_ ” Kohga said, nearly trampling on top of him. Astor would have poured the coffee there, but Sooga was already carrying his blades. “I had the most amazing dream.”

“Oh god,” Astor said, rolling his eyes. “I do pray you spare me all the details.”

Kohga thought that was permission to talk.

Kohga recounted his dream to Astor, being sure to spare _all_ the details about the weapon and the cave and the voice and the lynel and the guardian and the plateau and the ancestors and the shrine and the bokoblins and the camp and the tiny little flower he’d seen on a blade of grass, and the cute little puppy he’d petted in his second dream that night, and Astor very quickly realized Kohga didn’t know what “spare” meant.

“Please Astor,” Kohga said. “I need you to check it. Please tell me whether or not it’s real. Then everybody will know and believe me.”

“Oh, I know that isn’t real. I don’t even have to check.”

“Astor, please.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Astor _pleeeaaaasseeeee_.”

“Kohga,” Astor said, shortly, setting his coffee down on the table to punctuate his words. “There is no way that such a weapon exists. Because _you_ are the only person on earth capable of coming up with an idea as stupid as that.

“Astor, I _know_ it’s real come on,” Kohga begged. “You know all about dreams and premonitions. You know. You gotta know.”

“I do know. And I know it’s not real.”

“It _is_.”

“It sounds entirely inefficient.”

“It’s _real_. I know everything about it.”

At this point, Kohga had cornered him in a way, or, at least backed him up against the table where he was trying to drink his coffee. But when Astor saw him now, he saw the way the boy simply would not let up, no matter how many times the others told him he was wrong, and that look of deep, full hearted conviction in a prophecy or a dream despite all evidence to the contrary _was_ something that was familiar to him. And so, intrigued, but by no means believing him, Astor crossed his arms and looked back to him.

“Alright, I’m pitying you,” he said. “So what is it called?”

“The One-Hit Obliterator.”

“Dear god, Kohga.”

“It’s _real!!_ ” Kohga said, chasing him down as he turned away.

 _"_ Only _you_ would think up an ancient weapon bestowed upon by the gods and give it such an _asinine_ name.”

“It isn’t stupid it’s real and the monks named it,” Kohga said, but Astor was already walking away. The other Yiga had wandered off to start their drills for the day. Kohga was left alone only with Sooga, and his ancient knowledge bestowed upon him by the gods.

Thousands of miles away, but also not too far away in the spirit realm, a small group of ascended monks had gathered to gaze down upon the scene.

“Why did you let him know?” one of them asked. “Knowledge of the weapon is only supposed to be revealed to the most enlightened of the Sheikah, and the Sword’s Chosen Hero.”

Maz Koshia looked down to his frantic little descendant, who was still huffing around the base as fast as his two little Kohga legs would carry him, clambering desperately trying to get anyone to listen. But no one would. That, at least, he’d made certain.

“I, uh… dialed a wrong number,” he admitted. He was thankful he’d managed to place the curse on the boy before he’d woken up. They’d hide the weapon a bit better next time.


End file.
